Part 34 (1/2)
He kissed her again. ”It is now.”
”A toast,” Picard said, standing up from the table and raising his champagne gla.s.s. He waited for his dining companions to lift their own flutes, and he continued, ”May our friends.h.i.+ps, like fine wine, only improve with time's advance, and may we always be blessed with old wine, old friends, and young cares. Cheers.”
”Here, here,” replied Will Riker, who saluted Picard with his gla.s.s and then took a sip, cuing the other guests to drink.
Picard returned to his chair beside Beverly, who sat on his left. Riker occupied the other seat beside her, and past him was Deanna Troi. An empty chair separated Troi from Ezri Dax.
”What an amazing dinner,” Dax said, gathering another spoonful of chocolate mousse. ”Thank you for inviting me.”
”Every new commanding officer deserves to be treated at least once to a meal in the Captains' Lounge,” Picard said with a collegial grin. ”Not only is the cuisine exquisite, but the view is spectacular.”
His comment turned everyone's eyes to the vista beyond the restaurant's concave wraparound wall of flawless transparent aluminum. Set against a perfect black curtain of star-flecked s.p.a.ce was the majestic, looming curve of Mars's southern hemisphere.
The real focus of attention, however, was the newly arrived vessel in the docking slip below the VIP guests' table. The Columbia NX-02 was being swarmed over and doted on by a small army of engineers, mechanics, and technicians, who had begun the task of restoring the s.h.i.+p so that it could return under its own power to Earth orbit, completing the ill-fated journey it had started more than two centuries earlier.
Riker sighed with admiration of the vintage stars.h.i.+p. ”They really knew how to make 'em back then, didn't they?”
Dax replied with mock injured pride, ”I think they make 'em just fine now, thank you very much.”
”It is amazing, though,” Troi said. ”To think of how much of history was shaped by the fate of that one s.h.i.+p.”
”Like the b.u.t.terfly effect,” Beverly interjected. ”One decision today can spell life or death for a billion people a hundred years from now. You just never know.”
”True,” Riker replied. ”Maybe the universe is more like the subatomic realm than we normally think-full of invisible effects and unseen consequences.” He smirked at Picard. ”What do you think, Jean-Luc?”
”I think perhaps you've all had enough champagne,” he said, trying to hold a stern poker face and failing as a smile cracked through his mask of propriety. It felt good to grin and laugh and be the man he'd hidden from view for so many years. He felt as if he had come home to himself at long last.
His friends chortled good-naturedly with him, and then Riker said, ”Seriously, though, what do you think?”
Picard permitted himself a moment of introspection. Until recently, he had dreaded such self-reflection, because his inner life had been haunted by the shadow of the Borg. Now, granted a measure of peace and solitude, he thought about the sensations and impressions that had lingered after the Caeliar's transformation of the Collective. He sipped his demita.s.se of espresso and appraised his newly altered worldview.
”I think that we're all echoes of a greater consciousness,” he said. ”Cells of awareness in a scheme we can't understand. At least, not yet.”
Beverly seemed taken aback by his answer. Leaning toward him, she rested her hand on his forearm and said, ”Is that really what you believe, Jean-Luc?”
He arched one eyebrow. ”I hesitate to call it a belief,” he said. ”Let's just say it's an idea that I'm entertaining.”
”Pretty big idea,” Riker said, flas.h.i.+ng his trademark smile behind his close-cut salt-and-pepper beard.
Picard shrugged. ”Why think small? Thinking is free.”
Dax folded her napkin and set it on the table. ”Sorry to eat and run, but I have to get back to the Aventine by 1900. We're expecting new orders from Starfleet Command.”
As she got up, Picard and Riker stood as well. Smoothing the front of his tunic, Picard said with genuine optimism, ”An exploration mission, perhaps?”
”Not likely, I'm afraid,” Dax said. ”I spoke to Admiral Nechayev before I came to dinner. She told me the Aventine'll be needed to help coordinate rescue and recovery efforts inside the Federation for at least the next few months.” She frowned. ”Seems like a waste of a perfectly good slipstream drive, if you ask me. Now that it's fully online, I was hoping we'd get to visit a new galaxy or something.”
Riker gently chided her, ”A new one? Do you mind if we finish exploring this one first?”
”Don't be silly, William,” Dax teased, standing on tiptoes to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. ”That's what Starfleet has you for.” The sweetness of her smile took the sting out of her jibe. To Picard, she said, ”Captain, it's been a pleasure and an honor. I hope our paths get to cross again someday.”
”I'm certain they will,” Picard said. With a nod at the table, he added, ”But next time, you're buying dinner.”
”You're on,” the diminutive Trill captain said. Then she turned, said her farewells with Beverly and Troi, and left the restaurant in quick strides, without a backward glance. By the time she had finished her exit, Troi and Beverly had risen from the table to stand with Riker and Picard.
”She's something else,” Beverly said, with a combination of admiration and exasperation.
”Yes,” Troi said. ”She's exceptionally sure of herself.”
Picard and Riker traded amused glances, and Picard said to the two women, ”She can't help it-she's a Dax.”
Crusher poked Picard's chest. ”And I'm a Howard woman.”
”And I'm a daughter of the Fifth House, heiress to the Sacred Chalice of Rixx and the Holy Rings of Betazed,” Troi said. After a horrified pause, she added, ”And I'm turning into my mother.”
”G.o.d, I hope not,” Riker muttered.
”What was that?” Troi snapped.
”Nothing.”
”Mm-hmm.”
Sensing that it might be a good time to change the subject, Picard said, ”Does t.i.tan have its new orders yet?”
”Nope,” Riker said. ”We're moving to McKinley Station tomorrow at 0800 for some upgrades and refits. We'll find out what's next once we're done with repairs.” He shook his head and after a rueful grin, added, ”I do love a surprise.”