48 Generations by J.M. Dillard

Author:J.M. Dillard [Dillard, J.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780743454247
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2002-08-24T23:00:00+00:00

Geordi La Forge woke with a queasy headache and the distinct realization that he was aboard neither the observatory nor the Enterprise. He stirred, and realized that he was sitting in an uncomfortable chair aboard a vessel of some sort—the floor beneath his feet vibrated, and he could hear the groan of aging engines. The air was warm, stale, none too sweet; he could feel it on the bare skin of his chest. Someone had removed his tunic.

And his VISOR, leaving him blind. He leaned forward and groped in the darkness.

A hand reached out and grasped his. Faint laughter, and then a familiar voice, very nearby: “Looking for something, Mr. La Forge?”

Geordi drew back. The voice was Soran’s, the scientist from the observatory. He remembered now: Soran had struck him—and apparently kidnapped him. But why ...?

“A remarkable piece of equipment,” Soran continued in a cheerful, conversational tone. “But a little inelegant, wouldn’t you say?”

Geordi did not reply.

“Have you ever considered a prosthesis that would make you look a little more ... normal?”

The words angered him. Easy, he told himself. He is doing it on purpose. Don’t let it get to you. ... But he could not resist countering, “What’s normal?”

“Normal,” Soran said smoothly, “is what everyone else is—and what you are not.”

Geordi tried to keep the heat from his own voice, and failed. “What do you want?”

A long pause. And then Soran said, “As you may or may not be aware, I am an El Aurian. Some people call us a race of listeners. We listen.” He hesitated. “Right now, Mr. La Forge, you have my undivided attention. I want to listen to everything you know about trilithium ... and me.”

It made no sense; he knew little about either subject. But he saw no reason not to comply. He thought for a moment, then replied, “Trilithium is an experimental compound developed by the Romulans. I think it’s a derivative of—”

He stopped at a sharp thrill of pain near his chest, and raised his hand to the spot. Almost as quickly, the sensation disappeared; but Soran had never touched him.

“I don’t want a science lecture,” Soran said coldly.

“You were on that observatory looking for trilithium. Why?”

Geordi sighed. This wasn’t going to be much fun; he clearly knew a lot less than Soran thought he did. “I was ordered to by the captain.”

“Let’s try to move beyond the usual prisoner-interrogator banter, shall we? You have information, and I need it.” Soran paused. “Did the captain explain his orders to you? Did he say why you were searching for trilithium?”

Geordi shook his head. “No.”

Another long pause. “What about ... Guinan? What has she told you about me?”

“Guinan?” He blinked in surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Soran’s tone hardened. “My instincts tell me you’re lying. And I know that can’t be easy for you ... I can see you have a good heart.” He gave a soft, ironic chuckle. Geordi tilted his head, puzzled at the sudden sound of ticking—like the sound of an antique Earth timepiece.

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