They moved away from the guards, who had taken up their position outside the doors. "I apologize, Captain," said Will. "And to you, too, Counselor."

Picard looked at him in surprise, as did Deanna. "Good heavens, Number One, why?"

"Because of his att.i.tude."

"Yes, but he's not y-well, he is you, I suppose. But there are significant differences, Number One, not the least of which is years and experience. You shouldn't feel badly."

"Well... I do. Seeing someone who is, to all intents and purposes, me, acting that way..."

"I don't know," said Deanna with a shrug. "He didn't seem so bad to me."

"You're kidding," said Will. "I don't know... I mean... I know how much I owe him"-he looked at her-"for everything. But there was still something about him that just... just rubbed me the wrong way."

"But he's what you'll become, Number One," pointed out Picard. "You must have seen something of yourself in him."

"No," said Riker firmly. "Very, very little. To be honest, he reminded me of..." Then he stopped.

"Of who, Number One?"

Riker sighed. "He reminded me of my father."

Deanna chuckled, and Riker shot her a look.

"Yes, well," said Picard, trying to hide his own smile, "be that as it may... due to the delicate situation that we're in, we're going to keep this on a need-to-know basis. However... there is someone whom I feel that it's important to consult. Someone who should be able to afford some unique insight into our situation."

On the bridge, Data answered the signal on his communicator. "Commander Data here."

Over the comm unit came the familiar, clipped tone of Picard.

"Mr. Data... I have a matter of some urgency to discuss with you. Please report to your quarters immediately."

"My quarters?" Data tilted his head in curiosity. "That is a rather unusual procedure, Captain."

"We're in a rather unusual situation, Mr. Data."

"Very well, Captain," said Data, standing. "I will be there directly."

Lieutenant Barclay was walking down the corridor, feeling disoriented, and he b.u.mped shoulders with Data just as he pa.s.sed the android officer's cabin. Data looked at him curiously. "Lieutenant... are you quite all right?"

"I'm... I'm fine, sir," said Barclay hollowly.

"Very well." Data turned and walked into his cabin.

Barclay sighed. He still didn't know what to make of his holodeck experience. Perhaps... perhaps he simply needed some regular, normal R&R. Not something holodeck-generated. Some real experience instead. Otherwise...

Well... was it possible that he was having difficulty separating fantasy from reality? Was he, in fact, totally losing touch with the world around him?

No, he thought. It couldn't be. It simply couldn't...

He turned a corner and b.u.mped shoulders with Data.

Barclay stepped back, gasping in confusion. "But... but..."

Data stared at him, his yellow eyes glittering in curiosity. "Lieutenant, are you quite all right?"

With an insane sense of d?j? vu, Barclay stammered out, "I'm... I'm fine, sir."

"Very well," said Data, taking him at his word and continuing on his way toward his cabin.

Barclay's head snapped back and forth like a yo-yo. Then he sagged against a wall and whimpered like a lost child.

Data entered his cabin and said, "Captain?"

The door closed behind him, but there was no sign of Picard. "Captain?" he said again.

He sensed a presence behind himself and he spun...

And a hand was already at his off-switch. He did not even manage to get a look at his a.s.sailant before he went limp.

The gold-skinned intruder lowered the insensate android onto the bed and then stepped back. Then he turned and studied his reflection in the mirror.

Perfect, of course. But then again, why shouldn't he be? He was, after all, the same individual. He hadn't aged a day. His body was the same, his brainpower undiminished. And his ability to mimic voices-in this case, Picard's-had been invaluable.

He tilted his head as a thought hit him. He had no recollection of this event ever occurring. But it had just happened in, effectively, his own past. How was it possible for something to have happened to him without his remembering it?

For that matter, how could Admiral Riker be acting as if the entire notion of saving Deanna Troi was just occurring to him? If he had gone back in time to his own past, then he should be aware of everything that had already happened. But unless he was engaging in a ma.s.sive subterfuge for Data's benefit...

No. Data didn't think that was what was happening. The only thing that he could conceive of was that neither he nor Admiral Riker had any memory of the events because, to all intents and purposes, they hadn't happened yet. Right here, right now, was where they were shaping all that was to come.

Except all that was to come had already been shaped. Riker was trying to remold it to his own image. Data, on the other hand, had to try to preserve it.

Deanna Troi could not live to affect the peace conference... no matter what was required.

He removed the communicator from the unconscious Data's uniform, removed the one that he had taken from the same supplies room that he had stolen the uniform from that he was now wearing, and affixed Data's actual communicator to his uniform front. No point in leaving anything to chance.

He tapped the communicator. "Computer," he said briskly, "locate Counselor Deanna Troi."

For one moment he hoped that the computer would say, "Deanna Troi is in the morgue." That would have simplified things immensely.

Instead the computer said, "Deanna Troi is in her quarters."

Data nodded. Then he went to the unmoving form of Lieutenant Commander Data, made one small change to it as a safety precaution, and headed off to kill the ship's counselor.

CHAPTER 40.

Picard had gone straight from Riker's cabin to the Ten-Forward, and now he said in soft tones to Guinan, after telling her as much as he knew, "What do you think?"

"What do I think? I think it's possible," Guinan allowed.

"Would you know?" asked Picard. "If time had shifted around us... one way or the other... would you be aware of it? You've intimated in the past that you have a sensitivity for such things."

"A sensitivity, yes, but I'm not omniscient." She had just poured Picard a drink and slid it over to him. Now she stared at her reflection in the gla.s.s. "Look... I live day to day, same as you, Captain. Same as anyone. Now if there's a large enough disturbance in the s.p.a.ce-time continuum... particularly when it has its origins in the past... I might be aware of it and be able to tell you that something's wrong. But if it's happening right here, right now"-she shook her head-then I'm on the same roller coaster as you are, Captain. And all we can do is hold on."

He nodded. "For a moment I toyed with the notion of canceling the peace conference. After all, it would logically appear that an attempt on her life would be connected with the conference. Or I could have all the delegates questioned, or..." Then he shook his head in exasperation. "But now we enter the realm of temporal second-guessing. How far do I go, beyond guarding Deanna? If none of this had happened, then I would have no reason to take extraordinary measures. Which means that I really don't have any reason now."

"Best to let matters proceed then," said Guinan.

Again Picard nodded.

At that moment Data walked into the Ten-Forward. He looked around thoughtfully, then glanced up as Picard gestured for him to come over. Data took a place next to the captain, and politely nodded to Guinan.

"A question, Captain," said Data. "Why are Lieutenant Worf and three other security guards stationed around Counselor Troi's quarters?"

Picard glanced at Guinan and then lowered his gla.s.s. "I will tell you, Data, and will inform Commander Riker that you have been brought into our little circle of secrecy. But it is to go no further. Now the official reason is that an unknown a.s.sailant, presently in the brig, made an attempt on the counselor's life. That much is, in fact, true. However, it's quite a bit more involved than that..."

Data, naturally, knew precisely how involved it was.

He had gone to Troi's quarters, and when he had seen the guards there... including a scowling Worf studying every pa.s.serby with intense scrutiny... he knew he had a problem. It was, of course, perfectly likely that he could force his way past Worf and the others. They were not expecting a friendly face to turn on them, and he could probably down them before they could mount a serious defense. Deanna would have been dead before any help could have been summoned, and once that happened, the currents of time would have pulled him-and presumably, Riker and Blair-back to their own time.

But to attack her so overtly would have exposed that there was more than one Data waltzing around on the Enterprise. Or even worse... what if the present Data were unable to convince the others that he had not, in fact, simply gone berserk? In one scenario, they would have come to the realization that Data still existed in the future... and that knowledge could have serious consequences. On the other hand, if they simply decided that their own Data had become unreliable, or even dangerous, they might conclude that the only reasonable course of action was to deactivate or dismantle him. If they did that...

Then what?

Would he, the Data of the future, then cease to exist? And if he didn't exist, then who would go back to stop Admiral Riker? But if he didn't exist to come back to try to stop Admiral Riker, then how could he possibly kill Deanna Troi and set in motion the events that could get himself shut off? And who...?

It was this sort of self-involving confusion that had once prompted Geordi LaForge to declare, during one such discussion of a theoretical paradox, "This is precisely why time travel gives me nosebleeds."

Data didn't have a nosebleed. Data had a situation.

But one way to remedy that situation was to get himself "officially" brought into the information loop. Which was precisely what he was doing now.

And once he had that information, it was just a matter of determining the most effective way to proceed.

CHAPTER 41.

There had been one change of security guards since the captain ordered the guard. Worf, however, had remained. This did not surprise anyone. In similar situations, Worf had displayed stamina that was, quite simply, inhuman.

As a result, when Will Riker approached, Worf turned to him with just as fierce a protective glare as he had possessed since he'd first taken his post.

"No one has seen or spoken to Counselor Troi," Worf said, "except for a carefully supervised visit by Dr. Crusher."

Riker nodded approvingly. "Good. Despite everything that happened last night, she wanted to be fresh for the peace conference." He tapped his communicator. "Riker to Counselor Troi. Are you awake, Deanna?"

"Yes, Commander. Awake and ready to go."

"Good." He gestured for Worf and the others to follow, and they entered behind him. Worf observed that Riker was wearing a phaser. Silently he approved.

Deanna was standing there, looking radiant.

"How are you feeling today, Counselor?"

"Well," she said, extending her neck. "Actually I wound up sleeping in a slightly awkward position. My neck is a little stiff."

"Need me to get the kink out?"

"No." She smiled. "Actually... the pain isn't so bad. It reminds me that I'm alive."

Riker returned the smile. "I can think of more pleasurable ways to be reminded of being alive."

"Yes, Commander," she said dryly. "I'm sure you can. Well"-she slapped her thighs and rose-"to the peace conference, then."

They started down the hallway-Deanna, Worf, Riker, and the guards. They attracted curious glances as others walked past them in the corridor, and in a low voice Deanna asked, "Do I really require an entire entourage?"

"Just until we get to the conference room," said Riker. "We've shifted the location, however, to the high-security conference room. We've set up a low-level null field that will detect any sort of weapons. Once you're there you'll be safe, and Worf and the others can return to their duties."

"My duty," said Worf firmly, "is to ascertain the safety of all personnel."

"And you've done an excellent job, Worf," Deanna told him.

The Klingon merely grunted.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Riker asked her.

Deanna nodded. "Right after you posted the guards, Beverly came down to check me over."

"Yes, so I heard. 'Carefully supervised'."

"Her instruments didn't detect anything wrong with me. And yet I felt something... or at least, for a few moments, I had. That burning sensation I mentioned. But then it vanished. I can only a.s.sume that whatever was in that vial did whatever it was supposed to do. I truly owe a great debt to... both of you."

"I know," said Will. "We both do. I was thinking about it last night... and maybe I was a little hard on him. I mean, it took real guts to do what he did. I don't know if I could have done it."

She patted him on the arm. "Don't worry, Commander. I suspect the answer is yes... but hopefully you'll never have to find out."

In the quarters of Commander Riker, Adm. William Riker crouched in a corner and pulled at the heel of his boot.

He had kept a careful eye on his chronometer and now said, "Computer... locate Deanna Troi."