Star Trek-TNG-Novel-Imzadi 1 Page 7

  visible through the folds, which she pulled shut as an

  afterthought. She appeared slightly out of breath, and

  her visible skin was slick and glistening, as if from

  perspiration--or perhaps some sort of skin

  moisturizing oil.

  "I know it's you, W."

  "Is everything okay? I wanted to talk to you

  about--"

  And then he saw him.

  A man--a member of the Luss delegation, if

  Riker was remembering correctly--was seated

  on the bed. He was clearly naked and was

  self-consciously holding a pillow on his lap.

  Riker noted that the sheet was on the floor, out of

  reach.

  The man's orange skin was likewise tinted

  with some sort of moisture, and his ears--normally

  elegantly pointed--were drooping somewhat, as

  if in disappointment or letdown.

  Riker waited for the sixteen-ton weight that he

  was sure would momentarily show up to land squarely

  on his head.

  "You're busy," he said lamely.

  "I was," was Troi's pointed reply.

  Riker was trying to get himself to move, but his

  feet had apparently turned into large

  blocks of granite. Blowing air impatiently

  out between her lips, Deanna took him by the arm and

  yanked him into her cabin. The door hissed

  mercifully shut behind him.

  Deanna brushed stray strands out of her face

  and said, with something remotely approaching

  civility, "Will Riker, this is Dann Lendann

  --aide to the ambassador of the Luss. Dann

  is an old ... friend. Dann, this is Commander

  Riker."

  "I know." Dann shifted his legs in a vain

  attempt to look casual. "He welcomed us

  when we came aboard."

  "Yes, although ... not as enthusiastically as you

  apparently did, Counselor," said Riker.

  Deanna's dark eyes shot him a look that

  could have dented the deflector screens. And

  to Riker's surprise--since she did it so

  infrequently--her voice sounded in his head:

  That was a cheap shot, Commander.

  "It was just a joke, Counselor," Riker

  said. "Just ... to leaven the moment."

  Dann looked from one to the other, sensing that something

  had just passed between them but unable to discern what it

  was.

  "I think, Commander," said Deanna,

  readjusting the robe around herself as she held it

  shut, "that the moment would be sufficiently leavened

  if you left my cabin."

  "Of course. Yes, I'll ... I'll just be

  going." Riker backed up, feeling completely

  lost inside his own body. "Good seeing you,

  Dann ... I mean, not that I expected to see

  this much of you--"

  Deanna stared at him witheringly. Riker chucked

  a thumb in the direction of the door and she nodded.

  He turned, and mustering what few shreds of

  dignity he had left--which weren't much--he went

  back out into the hallway. The door closed with a very

  decisive hiss.

  He leaned against a wall of the corridor.

  "Perfect."

  Riker sat at his customary table in

  Ten-Forward, nursing his customary drink. A

  couple of times, crewmen started to wander in his

  direction. But when they got close enough to him

  to pick up on the unspoken body language that

  said Leave me alone, they would invariably

  back off.

  Everyone, of course, except Guinan.

  The Ten-Forward hostess glided up to the table

  and simply stood there until Riker looked up.

  "The problem is the weather," she said

  succinctly.

  He stared at her. "I beg your pardon?"

  "A traditional entr@ee into conversation has

  always been to discuss something utterly

  inconsequential; something that no one can do anything

  about. The weather has always filled the bill.

  Saying things like "I think it's clouding up"' was

  always a good way to ease yourself into talking about something

  a bit more uncomfortable." Guinan inclined her

  head slightly toward the viewport. "But look

  at that. Not much to say, is there? "Hmm ...

  looks like a vacuum today. And they predict more

  of the same for tomorrow."' You see the difficulty."

  "It's a formidable obstacle to casual

  chitchat," said Riker gravely.

  She remained standing opposite him. "So is

  sending out waves of frustration."

  "Have I been doing that?"

  "Look around you, Riker. There were twice as

  many people in here when you came in. Half of them

  left to do something more fun than be near you--like shoot

  themselves out the photon torpedo tube."

  "Bad as all that, am I?"

  She waggled her head slightly. "Not that

  bad. People overreact sometimes. If you were an

  ensign on custodial detail, that would be one

  thing. But when the second-in-command looks like he

  lost his best friend, well ... crewmen get a little

  unnerved by that."

  "I'll try to be more sensitive to people's

  needs."

  "Have you?"

  "Been more sensitive?"

  "No. Lost your best friend."

  He stared into the contents of the glass. "I

  don't know. I acted like an idiot with her."

  "I see. And were your actions unforgivable?

  Did you hit her?"

  Riker looked shocked. "Of course not!"

  "Rough her up a little?"

  "No!"

  "Call her obscene names?"

  "Of course not, Guinan. I'd never do that, and

  she'd never tolerate it."

  "How about beating up one of her friends? Would she

  tolerate that?"

  "No. She wouldn't."

  "Well, then," said Guinan, "how do you think

  she'd react to your beating up on yourself?"

  Riker opened his mouth to reply and then closed it

  again without doing so.

  "Uh-huh," said Guinan.

  Then she looked behind her in that way she had,

  reacting to something before she'd even seen it. Riker

  craned his neck to see around her, already suspecting

  what would be there.

  Sure enough, there was Deanna. She had entered

  Ten-Forward and was simply standing there, her arms

  folded across the top of her gray uniform with the

  purple V-neck. She was looking at Riker

  with an arched eyebrow. Her face was unreadable.

  Guinan drifted over to her and Deanna

  glanced at her. "He's all yours," Guinan

  said. "If you want him, that is."

  "I don't know," said Deanna with just the

  faintest hint of amused tolerance in her voice.

  "He looks pretty pathetic."

  "Looks can be deceiving," said Guinan sagely.

  Then she looked to Riker, and back to Troi.

  "On the other hand, sometimes looks can be right on

  target."

  "Thank you, Guinan."

  "Don't mention it."

  Deanna walked across the Ten-Forward with her

  usual purposeful stride. And then, in

  deliberate emulation of Riker, she spun the

  ch
air around on the opposite side of the table from

  him and straddled it.

  "I am ..." Riker tried to find the ^ws, and

  nothing better than the obvious occurred to him.

  "So sorry."

  He waited for Deanna to say something. All

  she did was stare at him before finally saying

  simply, "And ...?"

  He looked at the drink again. "I handled it very

  badly. It was an embarrassing situation under any

  circumstances. Walking in on someone when they're

  ... involved with someone ... can be very disconcerting.

  And it's even more disconcerting when that person is

  someone you have ... had ..."

  "Have and had?"

  "Feelings for," he finished. "Feelings that you

  always think you've sorted out, but then every time you think

  you have a handle on them, something happens."

  Again he paused, and again she simply said, "And

  ...?"

  Now he was starting to get just a bit annoyed.

  "Well, I mean, Deanna--y're the

  counselor, after all ... the one who's spent

  years getting in touch with her feelings. Can you say

  to me that you wouldn't feel the least little bit thrown

  off if you walked in on ... I don't know

  ..."

  "Ensign Ro?" she said helpfully.

  His face fell. "Bad example." But then

  he brightened slightly. "Actually ... you know,

  I had this odd feeling of reverse d@ej@a vu

  when I walked in on you, because if you remember, you

  didn't handle it particularly well on Betazed

  when--"

  She waved it off quickly, saying, "Youth

  excuses a great deal," but Riker knew that

  he'd hit home with that reminder of times past. And

  she knew it, too. When she looked up at him

  again, it was with an expression that he'd come to know

  extremely well--understanding.

  "Will," she said slowly, "we have a lot of

  history between us. A lot of reasons why our

  relationship is precisely where it is. Partly

  because we're serving on the same ship. Partly because

  ... well, partly a lot of things. One thing that

  we both agree on, though, is that neither of us is

  interested in leading a celibate life."

  "I know, Deanna. I don't deny that. I

  don't deny your right to be involved with whomever you

  want. In fact, I'm happy for you." He

  smiled sincerely, which wasn't difficult because he

  really was sincere. "You're entitled to every happiness

  that life has to offer you. And I understand that, since

  we've decided that our relationship is best served

  by remaining simply close friends--"

  "There's nothing "simple"' about our

  relationship, W," she said with her usual

  sparkle.

  "Granted. What I'm saying is that I

  understand ... hell, I know ... that relationships

  of a more--physical--nature than we're

  pursuing with each other are natural.

  Expected."

  Guinan appeared without saying a ^w, placed a

  drink at Deanna's right, and moved away as

  silent as a ghost. Deanna picked up the drink

  almost unconsciously, dropped in a small

  stirrer, and mixed it absently. "We've made

  no claims on each other otherwise," she

  pointed out.

  "Right. And naturally we're going to be

  involved with other people."

  "You keep saying that, w. Do you repeat it because

  you want to emphasize it ... or because you want

  to convince yourself of it?"

  He smiled lopsidedly. "A little of both,

  I guess. What I'm saying is that I understand

  it intellectually. In the abstract. But being put

  face-to-face, unexpectedly, with the reality of

  it ... it just caught me a little off guard, that's

  all. I felt surprise, and maybe ... just

  maybe"--he brought his thumb and forefinger together

  to measure out a minuscule amount of space--?j

  a smidgen of jealousy."

  "Just a smidgen."

  "Nothing significant. I mean, after all,

  Deanna"--he spread his hands helplessly--

  "I'm only human."

  "I've tried never to hold that against you," she

  said somberly.

  And they clinked glasses.

  CHAPTER 9

  In a time-honored tradition for getting

  attention, Captain Picard clinked his knife

  several times against his glass.

  All around the banquet table, the delegates

  ceased their amiable chatter, putting down their

  utensils or drinks and giving their full attention

  to the captain.

  Around the table were grouped the ambassadors from the

  Cordians, the Byfrexians, and the Luss.

  Also seated there were Data, Worf, Riker, and

  Troi.

  Riker was not seated next to Deanna but instead

  several spaces down. That had not been the

  original seating arrangement, but when Deanna had

  arrived, she had been mildly surprised to find

  Dann next to her.

  "Commander Riker insisted," said Dann, sounding

  just a bit puzzled. "I thought I was supposed

  to be sitting with my delegation, but ..." And he

  shrugged.

  Deanna had turned and looked at Riker,

  who was sitting next to the Lussian ambassador

  and speaking with him animatedly. The Luss

  was no.ing his bald head thoughtfully, and giving that

  enigmatic half-smile that was so typical of the

  elders of his race.

  As if sensing Deanna's gaze on him,

  Riker continued to talk to the ambassador but

  glanced in Deanna's direction. Her smile

  said it all--..The seating rearrangement wasn't

  necessary, but it's a sweet gesture. Thank you.

  He cocked his head slightly in unspoken

  response and then turned his full attention back

  to the ambassador.

  The evening had progressed quite smoothly as the

  Enterprise continued in its stately orbit around

  Sindar, the home planet of the Sindareen. Their

  arrival had been uneventful, which in andof itself was

  unusual. Once upon a time, anyone getting within

  a parsec of Sindareen space, much less the

  home world of Sindar, was met with challenges and

  hostilities ... even if they were expected.

  But the Enterprise had sailed through with nary a

  whisper from the Sindareen and had settled into orbit

  around Sindar while attracting nothing more than a

  muted greeting from the planetary government and an

  assurance that delegates would shortly be prepared

  to beam up to the Enterprise to begin the hammering out

  of a peace settlement between the Sindareen and their

  longtime opponents.

  Those delegates were now seated at the head of the

  table and were paying polite attention to Picard as

  he rapped for silence.

  When all was silent, Picard spoke. "The

  Federation is, at its heart, an organization

  dedicated to peace. So a mission such as this one is

  always particularly gratifying, since we are

  fulfilling the most fundamental
function of the

  United Federation of Planets. I extend

  welcome once more to the delegates of the

  Cordians, the Luss, and the Byfrexians."

  As he mentioned each one, he raised his glass and

  moved it slightly in the direction of each in

  acknowledgment. "And now, it is my honor

  to welcome the delegates from the Sindareen ...

  Ambassador Nici, and her retainer, Eza."

  Nici slowly rose. She was tall, with her

  coal-black hair swept up and back,

  exposing her long, narrow throat. Her mouth

  barely moved when she spoke--instead, the sound

  issued predominantly from the nictating

  membranes that fluttered at the base of her

  neck.

  "It is ... our honor," she said

  carefully, "to meet with our ... associates

  ... in a place other than the battlefield.

  I have advocated the putting aside of

  hostilities for many years now. Our leaders have

  finally accepted the inevitability of ..."

  She paused, and immediately Picard knew why.

  She was waiting for one of the delegates to be

  classless enough to finish the sentence with the ^w defeat.

  No one said anything, but simply waited

  expectantly and courteously.

  his... compromise," Nici concluded after a

  respectable pause.

  Picard was pleased that the initial thrust from the

  Sindareen had worked out so smoothly, as they all

  raised their glasses and drank. He, along with the

  other delegates, knew perfectly well that the

  Sindareen used language as yet another weapon

  --ffprobe, prod, and generally to try to trip up

  potential opponents and reveal their true

  mind-sets. So no one at the table had any

  desire or intention of falling into one of the renowned

  Sindareen verbal traps.

  Seated next to Nici, and just to Deanna's

  right, was Eza, Nici's aide. Eza was darker

  complexioned than Nici--perh a resident of

  another province, Riker figured. Eza had a

  dark scowl on his face and seemed even less

  enthused with the proceedings than Nici. But at least

  he properly kept his own counsel, and Riker

  hoped that Eza would not serve as any sort of

  impediment to the proceedings.

  Also, Eza did seem capable of being swayed

  --the only times he smiled during the meal were when

  Deanna would engage him in conversation. He

  seemed grateful for the attention, and several times

  throughout the course of the meal he actually laughed rather

  boisterously, his nictating membranes flapping

  with furious speed. It seemed quite a positive