Part 4 (1/2)
Wesley could see a parable coming, but he couldn't resist asking, ”Why?”
”He's desperate to go into s.p.a.ce, see. But he's afraid that when it's time for him to enter Starfleet Academy he'll still be four years old. He won't understand anything, and he'll only come up to the other cadets' knees.”
”Too soon to worry, huh?” Wesley said. He sat down across the table from La Forge and rested a cheek on his fist.
”That's what I think. By the time they give you a stars.h.i.+p to command, you'll be ready. Starfleet doesn't give out Galaxy-cla.s.s stars.h.i.+ps like lollipops, you know.”
Wesley watched the gently bobbing life-support indicators. La Forge was wrong. Wesley didn't know how to explain how important it was to know right now if he had any apt.i.tude for command. Important decisions had to be made about his life. Who wanted to wait till they were old before they found out if they were any good at a job they'd wanted all their life?
La Forge said, ”What do you call this program of yours, Wes?”
Wesley shrugged and said, ”Boogeymen.”
La Forge smiled, and Wesley could not help smiling back.
The alarm Klaxon went off, and the calm computer voice said, ”Intruder alert. Intruder alert. Please secure your area. Please secure your area. This is not a drill. Intru-” The computer voice was cut off.
”What the h.e.l.l?” said La Forge.
”What the h.e.l.l?” said Captain Picard when he saw Professor Baldwin's cabin. In front of him Lieutenant Worf only growled.
Chapter Three.
COMMANDER MONT lay on the deck with blood several shades lighter than human blood leaking out of him. There was quite a puddle already. Standing over him, still breathing hard, was Professor Baldwin. His new bush s.h.i.+rt was torn and his hair was mussed. He tossed the dagger he was holding to Picard. Picard caught it-by the hilt, thank goodness-and inspected it. The dagger was oddly shaped, covered with gems, and very sharp. He handed it to Worf, who said, ”Axerii.”
”Mont doesn't look Axerii,” Picard said.
Dr. Crusher pushed past Picard and Worf and knelt next to Mont. She touched him here and there and aimed a medical tricorder at him, but even from where he was standing, Picard could tell he was dead.
”He's dead, Captain.”
”Yes, yes. Would you care to explain what happened here, Professor?”
Professor Baldwin collapsed into a chair and let his hands dangle between his knees. While looking at the floor he said, ”Shubunkin and Mont and I finished our first session a while ago. I was a little surprised when Mont came to my door, but he said he needed something cleared up right away. I let him in.”
”Imprudent,” said Worf.
”Yeah. As it turned out.” He looked up. ”The guy pulled a dagger on me. That Axerii dagger. Mont was in better shape than he looked, but while he was chasing me around the cabin I managed to sound the intruder alert. After he was dead it didn't seem relevant anymore, so I canceled it.”
Troi had been correct. Mont had been hiding something, and apparently that thing was his ambition to murder Professor Baldwin.
Still kneeling, Dr. Crusher said, ”Mont isn't human, Captain. His readings are Axerii.”
”Just like the dagger,” Worf said.
Crusher gently pulled away the b.l.o.o.d.y Starfleet uniform. Underneath, wherever they wouldn't show, were fine yellow feathers, now a sloppy mess. She said, ”We'll probably find that his ears are artificial. Axerii don't have any, just ear holes.”
Picard said, ”Can you explain Mont's actions, Professor?”
Baldwin narrowed his eyes and glared at Picard. Picard stood up to the gaze, but remembered that only a few hours earlier Baldwin had told him he wanted to disappear because he had a lot of enemies. Picard had thought Baldwin was exaggerating. Perhaps Picard had been wrong. Baldwin's look softened, and he grinned as he shook his head.
Picard touched his insignia and said, ”Number One?”
”Here, Captain.”
”Commander Mont was apparently an Axerii a.s.sa.s.sin sent to murder Professor Baldwin. Inform Starfleet. If one mole has burrowed into the organization, there are sure to be others. And please extend my compliments to Counselor Troi. She was right about Mont.”
There was a moment of silence. Picard imagined his first officer glancing around, taking in the new data, and nodding. ”Aye, Captain.”
”Mr. Worf, please inform Lieutenant Shubunkin that I would like to see him in my ready room.”
”Aye, Captain.”
”Come along, Professor.”
Professor Baldwin followed Picard along the corridors of the Enterprise to the turbolift. The doors closed, Picard said, ”Bridge,” and the turbolift began to move. After listening to the whine of the machinery for a moment, he glanced at Baldwin and saw a little boy trying his best to appear contrite for having been caught with a handful of cookies. The performance was charming, but Picard was unwilling to be convinced. He felt his jaw tighten, and he took a deep breath to loosen it. He said, ”You will have to make a full report eventually, Eric, but I confess that I am curious right now. What did you do to make the Axerii so angry?”
”You don't want to know.”
”Don't play that game with me, Eric,” Picard commanded. ”I know it too well.”
”Yeah.” Baldwin frowned and said, ”The Axerii and I were after the same thing: the mating ritual of the Yahk s.h.i.+mash.”
”I thought the Yahk s.h.i.+mash were extinct.”
The turbolift doors opened onto the main bridge. Picard stepped out and motioned Baldwin to follow. As he walked down the ramp to his ready room, Picard said, ”Everything under control, Number One?”
”Yes, sir.”
”I'll be expecting some visitors. Please hurry them along.”
”Yes, sir.”
In the ready room Picard requested two cups of hot Earl Grey tea from the food slot, gave one to Baldwin, and sat down behind his desk with the other. ”You were saying?” said Picard.
Baldwin sipped his tea and said, ”We thought the Yahk s.h.i.+mash were extinct, too. But after I'd been on s.h.i.+m for almost an entire local year, I found what must have been the last existing tribe. I spent a lot of time with them and found out what I wanted to know.”
”Then the Axerii arrived.”
”Bingo. They arrived and began spoiling everything by making enemies where I had made friends.”
”That sounds like the Axerii.”
”Yeah. So I talked them up until the Yahk s.h.i.+mash were eager to give the Axerii a demonstration of the mating ritual, the least disgusting part of which is being buried up to the chin in a specially prepared dunghill.”
Picard tried hard not to smile and failed.