Picard still hadn’t reconciled those events with Norinda’s protestations of love and peace. The armored unit, or hollow robot as Picard was coming to consider it, had killed the Reman doctor—hardly the act of a follower of the Jolara. But if it had been a robot, little more than a tool, then perhaps Norinda hadn’t understood the nature of its programming.
Or maybe Norinda is simply lying about everything, Picard thought, then sighed, dismissing his paranoia with a wry smile.
“What’s so funny, Uncle Jean-Luc?”
Picard gazed down at the holographic child, remembered a phrase from his own childhood. “When you’re older.”
Joseph grinned maliciously. “Awww, geee, you always say that!” Then he began to skip along the corridor to join the guards and pester them with childish questions.
Picard passed door after door, none of them hidden as they had been on the nightside, many of them marked in Romulan script, which Picard regretted he did not have the skills to read properly.
He did recognize some engineering terms, though, and one door was clearly marked for orbital operations —likely the flight control room. But other doors seemed to be identified simply by numbers and a single icon, as if in code.
Then the Remans stopped before a specific door, and one of them operated a control pad on the wall beside it.
The door opened, and it was clear from their body language to Picard that the Remans wanted him and Joseph to step inside. The guards would not be following.
Picard had no choice but to trust Norinda, so he took Joseph’s hand and together they stepped inside where—
—Beverly Crusher ran into his arms and held him as closely as Kirk had held Joseph.
Picard was so startled, and suddenly so fearful that this was another of Norinda’s manifestations that he actually pulled away.
But when he saw Crusher’s expression of hurt surprise, he immediately regretted it, knew it was her.
“Jean-Luc, what’s wrong?”
Honesty was always best, no matter how strange, so Picard told her the truth. “There is an alien here who is a shapeshifter, and she once appeared to me as you.”
Crusher narrowed her eyes, put her hands on her hips. “Details, Jean-Luc.”
“It was for just a few seconds,” he said reassuringly.
“If ye don’t mind, I’ll just settle for shakin’ your hand, Captain Picard.”
Picard turned to see Mister Scott, hale and hearty. He shook the engineer’s hand with enthusiasm.
“This is a most unexpected and welcome surprise,” Picard said with great relief. “The last any of us had heard, you were both in need of extensive surgical treatment.”
“The Remans excel at repairing traumatic injury,” Crusher said. She ran a finger along her forehead and under her right eye. “I’ve seen the before and after imagery on my skull fracture, broken nose, and cheekbone. But look, not a scar.”
Scott tapped his jaw. “Same for me. Quick treatment. But no pretty nurses.”
Picard looked around the room they were in, and was surprised by how pleasant it was. In addition to a bookcase full of Romulan scrollbooks, through which Joseph now pawed, there were plants, several groupings of what looked to be comfortable furniture, and woven wall hangings, which Picard recognized as stunning examples of a Romulan craft style about a thousand years old. These were the furnishings he would expect in a senator’s country home on Romulus, not in an Assessor facility on Remus.
“When did you arrive?” he asked.
“This morning,” Crusher said.
“Aye, there were a crowd of others,” Scott added. “The Jolan people. But if you’ll pardon me interrupting, is there any word on the captain and the others?”
“Jim’s fine. We just left him back on the Calypso with La Forge.”
Scott grimaced. “Och, th’ poor lad’ll have his work cut out for him.”
“Actually, the ship’s in better shape than we thought. It’s a long story, but there’re no surprises up there.”
Crusher was in tune with him. “But surprises down here?”
“Many,” Picard said. “Each with an equally long story.”
“Which you will tell us another time, no doubt,” she said.
“No doubt at all.” Picard looked past her and Scott to see Joseph intently reading a scrollbook. “Joseph? You’re being rude not saying hello to your Uncle Scott and Doctor Crusher.”
“Sorrr-eee,” Joseph said, but he made no move to stop reading.
“Why is he down here?” Crusher asked.
“Aye, I thought the captain was dead set against th’ lad setting foot on Remus.”
Picard knew he couldn’t risk saying anything, or even hinting what the real story was. “It’s a favor to me. I’ll explain later.”
“Any idea when that might be?” Scott asked. “Have they said anything about how long they might be keeping us here?”
“I…would hope we’ll be back on the Calypso within the day.”
“That’s good to know,” Scott said.
“But why the delay?” Crusher asked.
“Norinda—she’s the woman, actually, she’s the shapeshifting alien who founded the Jolan Movement—she’s arranging a meeting for me. Then we’ll go.”
Scott scratched the back of his head. “Norinda…I know that name…but a shapechanger?”
Before Picard could remind Scott where he had first encountered Norinda, the door swung open, and a Romulan entered carrying a small silver case.
“Farr Jolan,” he said. “I am Zol. I am here to see the child.”
As if they had discussed what to do beforehand, the three adults turned to form a wall, shoulder to shoulder, blocking Zol from Joseph.
“For what reason?” Picard asked.
Zol placed his silver case on a table and opened it, as if there were nothing Picard or the others could say or do to keep him from Joseph. “I am here at the request of the Jolara.”
“I understand that,” Picard said. “But I ask again: What do you want with him?”
Zol held up a slender, silver object and made an adjustment to it. It looked familiar to Picard, but Crusher recognized it right away.
“That’s a blood extractor. Are you a physician?”
Zol took another instrument from his case, laid it out beside the first. “I am.”
“Well, so am I,” Crusher said. “And Joseph is my patient. And I absolutely forbid you to perform any procedures on him until you gain the consent of his father.”
“Consent has been given.”
“Show it to me.”
Zol gestured to Joseph, who now stood behind Picard, looking past him as if he were truly frightened. “The child is here.”
Picard had no intention of letting the Romulan anywhere near the holographic boy. “Joseph is here to meet his mother’s relatives and for no other reason.”
Zol approached the adults with a larger instrument in hand. “How are we to know his kin without having his genetic profile? You will stand aside.”
“I will not.”
Zol didn’t argue. He simply raised the instrument he carried and the moment Picard recognized it as a disruptor, Zol fired.
The setting was low stun, and Picard fell back onto a chair, gasping for breath, without the muscle coordination to stand. Two more quick shots took care of Crusher and Scott, and no one was able to shout at Joseph to run.
