STAR TREK® THE NEXT GENERATION™ REUNION by Michael Jan Friedman

Author:Michael Jan Friedman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: POCKET BOOKS
Published: 1991-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Picard looked around the table—at Riker, Troi, Worf, and Crusher. “And so,” he said, “I take full responsibility for my decision to confide in Captain Ben Zoma—just as Dr. Crusher takes responsibility for confiding in Carter Greyhorse. But I do not want anyone else let in on this—not under any circumstances.”

“It’s going to get harder and harder to keep it under wraps,” Riker pointed out. “If Ben Zoma noticed, others will too.”

Troi nodded. “Ben Zoma said as much.”

“Nonetheless,” the captain insisted, “we will do everything we can to maintain security. Any questions?”

There were none.

“Very well, then. Let us turn to our investigation. Counselor Troi?”

“Unfortunately,” the empath said, “I have nothing of substance to report. A couple of our visitors—specifically Asmund and Joseph—have problems. But none I could point to as a prerequisite for murder.”

Picard turned to Worf. “Lieutenant—your findings.”

Worf scowled. “We analyzed the meal eaten by Loyosha just prior to his losing consciousness. As we suspected, it was laced with a narcotic that induces sleep. The source of the meal was the food service unit near Security—which was programmed to include this narcotic in three of Loyosha’s favorite dishes.” He looked at Picard. “The unit showed no signs of tampering, sir. So it must have been reprogrammed from another location—just as you suggested.”

“Reprogrammed from another location?” Riker whistled softly. “Our assassin’s grasp of technology gets more impressive all the time.”

Picard grunted. “What about the rest of your inquiry?” he asked Worf.

The Klingon’s scowl deepened. “I personally traced the whereabouts of each visitor at the time of the blackout. Morgen and Cadwallader, as we know, were with Dr. Crusher. Professor Simenon was in engineering with Commanders Data and La Forge. Captain Ben Zoma, Dr. Greyhorse, Commander Asmund, and Chief Joseph were in their quarters. At least, that is the information recorded by the computer, based on the locations of the suspects’ communicators.”

“But,” Riker reminded them, “it’s a simple matter to remove one’s communicator. Then one need not worry about being located—either at the moment of the crime or later on.”

The captain nodded. “But thank you, Lieutenant. It was worth a try.” He regarded the others. “Suggestions?”

No one seemed to have any.

“Are we beaten that easily?” he asked. “Perhaps we should just concede defeat now and get it over with.”

That seemed to shake them up a bit.

Picard stood. “I do not care what it takes,” he insisted. “I want this would-be assassin found. Before he becomes an assassin in fact.”

He scanned the faces at the table. For a moment he could have sworn Jack Crusher’s was among them. Then he looked again, and Jack was gone.

Steadying himself, the captain said: “This meeting is adjourned.”

The holodeck doors opened on a majestic scarlet forest shot through with long shafts of golden sunlight. Wesley took a step inside, applying his weight to the seemingly mosslike substance that covered the open spaces between the trees. It was springy underfoot—so springy, in fact, that it was difficult to keep his balance. But after a few more steps, he found the way to negotiate it was to bounce along instead of trying to resist it.

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