22 Reunion by Michael Jan Friedman

Author:Michael Jan Friedman [Friedman, Michael Jan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Science Fiction, Interplanetary voyages, Space ships
ISBN: 9780671748081
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 1991-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

His companion was smaller, dark and bearded; name unknown. "That's all right," he said. "Let's just hope it does the trick." The second shock was worse. The blond man was thrown to the floor. The dark one managed to keep his feet by clutching at the bulkhead behind him.

And even then, it wasn't over. There were aftershocks that made the ship tremble unnervingly.

"Damn." John picked himself up, despite the continu-+ disturbances. "What's going on up there?" The other man just shook his head. He was looking at the light that indicated the barrier was still in effect. Though Asmund couldn't see it from her bunk, or indeed from anywhere in her cell, she gathered that the light was still on. Otherwise, her guards would have reacted to the fact. But the dark one was still scrutinizing it.

"What's the matter?" asked the blond man, noting the direction in which his colleague was staring.

"I 'thought I saw the light flicker."

John considered it himself. "It's not flickering now," he said. "No. It's not." He shrugged. "My imagination, may-be." He turned to his companion. "I guess that was it. My imagination."

That's when the third jolt came. Actually, it was more of an upheaval.

The floor of her cell came crashing up at her, and the world went black.

Lifting himself off the deck, Geordi straightened his VISOR. In the grinding, shifting moment of chaos that followed his implementation of the last shield-shape

alteration, it had fallen askew. Along with half my vertebrae, the engineering chief remarked inwardly, not-+ the pain that was only now emerging in his lower back. And both his knees. And his left wrist.

He winced as the VISOR clicked softly into place. Must have hit my head too, he decided. Damn. What a mess.

Then, as his unique variety of vision was restored to him, he realized just why he was so sore. He was no longer at the engineering console--he was no longer anywhere near the engineering console. Their effort to escape the slipstream had flung him clear over to the food dispenser--a good thirty feet) As he looked around he saw that other members of the bridge contingent had been similarly strewn about. The captain, Riker, and Troi, for instance, had all been pitched forward and to the right, so that they were now dusting themselves off near the emergency turbolift. Worf was in front of the command area instead of in back of it, and Wesley had been plastered against the forward viewscreen-which had gone blank somewhere along the line. Neither Morgen nor Simenon was immediately visible-not until they poked their heads up from behind the Tactical station. The Gnalish muttered a curse.

Only Data had somehow managed to remain in his seat--thougb now that Geordi looked more closely, he could see that it had been at the expense of his control board. The thing was flipped up and mangled at one end-no doubt, where the android had gripped it to anchor himself.

This kind of stuff wasn't supposed to happen on a ship

like the Enterprise, Geordi noted.

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