Chapter Seven

Riker left it until the last moment before going to pick up Maya for the party, though he had come off duty half an hour before. He wanted to give the impression that he had not spent all afternoon planning for it and thinking about her. She looked like she had been ready for some time, in a pale blue chiffon-like dress that flowed round her body and tuned with her eyes, and he could see that she was fired up for an ordeal.

"I brought you something," he said.

"Did you?"

He brandished what he had been half-concealing against his leg. "Real beer. You thought that synthohol the replicator produced was the real thing - this is from my private supply, bottled in Alaska, made from real hops, genuine alcohol content."

"Oh!" She looked delighted as she took the pack of four bottles from him. "Thank you! Is it all right to take it to the party?"

"That's one reason I brought it. It might liven things up."

She laughed again, looking at him directly.

Riker had to suppress the sudden impulse to forget caution and common sense and just to say what he thought. For a moment it seemed simply like the honest, straightforward thing to do. He had to control himself; it was far too soon. It would be too easy to burn bridges. He adopted the casual, friendly air he had kept up since they met, and walked with her to the Captain's quarters savouring the elation he felt when she was with him. When she was elsewhere, his mind fell into a more logical and detached frame of operation. When she was there, he just enjoyed her presence.

He felt her tense as they entered the Captain's quarters. There were about twenty people in the room - the senior officers and their immediate subordinates, and the heads of civilian departments - and in the relative confines of the Captain's living room, they constituted a minor crowd. It seemed that all heads turned to look at Maya, but the Captain took charge of the situation with his usual diplomacy.

"Welcome to my quarters," he said to her. "It's a pleasure to see you looking so well. I trust Will has been making you feel at home?"

"Thank you, Captain, he has."

"I take pride in a job well done," Riker said.

"Let me introduce you to our chief of security, Mr Worf, whom I believe you have not yet met."

Riker let the Captain steer her away with, he noticed, an easy hand on her elbow. He had not yet dared touch her, except to shake hands.

Geordi, nearby, had made some remark to Data, the tone but not the content of which Riker half-overheard. He turned to him. "What was that?"

Geordi looked slightly abashed. "I just said - I wondered at the briefing two days ago why you put in a special request for this assignment, but when I saw the assignment yesterday, it made sense."

"That's a cynical assessment of my motives, Geordi," said Riker, with a grin. "I'm surprised at you."

"Geordi," said Data, "may I ask you a question relating to a general subject which interests me, and of which this provides an example?"

"Go ahead."

"From the comments which you and Commander Riker have just exchanged, and from two separate remarks made in my hearing by Ensign Berwick in engineering and Mr Dela in Ten-Forward, I conclude that Science Officer Maya is generally regarded as sexually attractive."

"You got it, Data."

"I am anxious to know which aspects of her appearance convey this impression."

"Well - Data - that's a big question. It's not just appearance, it's a kind of combination. I'm not even the best person to ask, since I can't see her the way most people can. It's her figure, her hair, her face - "

"Her smile," said Riker.

"You can't explain it."

"Does the shape of her figure, or the configuration of her face, lead you to anticipate that you would experience greater pleasure in a sexual coupling with her than with a woman without these attributes?"

"No, Data, it doesn't work like that. It's not logical, you're trying to rationalise the irrational. It's just the way men react. It's a biological thing."

"Then I, being of a non-biological composition, am unlikely to experience the same reaction."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"And yet I did find the meeting that we had this afternoon to be extremely stimulating. It is something that I would like to repeat, if possible, before she rejoins her colleagues from Moonbase Alpha."

"Go for it, Data," said Geordi.

Riker opened one of the bottles of beer and poured a glass, which he took over to where Maya was making a foursome with the Captain, Worf, Deanna and Beverly.

"I am sorry," said the Captain, as Maya took the glass. "I had meant to get you a drink."

"Oh no, this is what I wanted, Commander Riker got it for me specially."

"What is it?" asked Deanna. "Some kind of synthale?"

"Beer. It's the only kind of alcoholic beverage available on Moonbase Alpha, but our chief of security makes it himself and I always wondered what it was supposed to taste like. Mm, this is delicious."

"The rest of it is over there," said Riker, and left the group again. He wasn't going to hang too conspicuously around her.

No matter how smoothly he circulated, however, he remained acutely aware of her. He knew exactly where she was in the room, and he could hear her voice constantly and clearly through the hubbub of conversation. In one of his snatched glances, he saw that she was in deep conversation with Deanna, and that pleased him. He wanted Deanna to make her acquaintance, and to like her.

"Well, Number One," said the Captain, "this seems to be a success. Maya appears to be enjoying herself."

Riker smiled in acknowledgement, then turned his head involuntarily as he heard her laugh loudly. She was talking to Data, who must have said something inordinately amusing.

Captain Picard also looked in her direction, frowning faintly.

Swiftly, Riker went over to her, nodded in apology to Data, and led her to sit down on the nearby sofa. She smiled at him radiantly, complying. "Hello, Commander, I haven't spoken to you much this evening," she said, in perfectly precise tones. But her eyes were huge, and her tactile defences had all gone down.

Riker allowed himself to keep a hand on her arm. "Call me Will, I said."

"Will." She giggled again.

"Did you enjoy the beer?"

"Yes, it was lovely."

"Did you drink it all?"

"Oh yes."

"Maybe that wasn't such a good idea."

"No, it was delicious," she said earnestly.

He was fairly sure that the Alaskan ale was about as potent as beer got, and if Maya was used to nothing but some undrinkable home brew she probably had no tolerance at all. Pleasant as it was to have her relaxed and friendly - he was sure he could easily slide his arm around her shoulder now, and it would seem natural - it was unfair to take advantage, and he didn't want it to appear that he had got her drunk. Strictly speaking, it was against Starfleet regulations to serve real alcohol on board a starship. It was certainly against all protocol to drink enough of it to get inebriated.

"Maybe you should switch to something not quite so... potent," he said. "I'll get you some water. Stay there."

He darted over to the replicator and ordered a pint of water. In the three seconds it took to materialise, Maya was joined on the sofa by Lieutenant Glover from engineering. He had noticed Glover watching Maya earlier, and he had evidently decided to make his approach.

"I'm from Earth," he was saying, as Riker came back with the water. "When I was a kid I used to read stories about Moonbase Alpha. Never thought I'd meet someone who'd been there. Tell me something - are all the woman there as beautiful as you?"

"Oh no," said Maya seriously. "Some of them look like this!"

Afterwards, Riker's trained mind was able to recall everything that happened in clear and sequential detail, though at the time he was too stunned to react immediately. The elegant form of Maya blurred and dissolved in what looked like a miasma of energy, which hung in the air for a fragment of a second then expanded and solidified into a creature made of slimy tentacles with one giant pulsating eye.

He heard the crash as the glass fell from his fingers and smashed on the floor. He saw Lieutenant Glover yell and scramble backwards over the sofa to fall in an undignified heap. Some woman screamed, and Worf sprang forward with his phaser.

Riker's instincts snapped into action. "Mr Worf! Disarm!"

He had been watching her, and he had seen her do it. He knew the nightmarish creature was really Maya.

And another moment later, as Worf reluctantly lowered his gun and stepped back, it was Maya again, laughing helplessly in the midst of a concentrated, horrified silence.

"I have always wanted to do that," she said to Riker, grasping his arms for support and gasping for breath. "Whenever somebody says something like that - I've always wanted to do that!"

"Okay, now you've done it. Maya - "

"Number One," said the Captain gravely.

"Curious," said Data. "A remarkable transformation. I would be interested to know how to achieved it. Was it collective suggestion, or is your physiology capable of genuine molecular rearrangement?"

"Not now, Mr Data," said Riker sharply. "Maya, let's go."

"Go where?"

He managed to manoeuvre her out of the room before the Captain could intervene, and before anything more disastrous could happen. She was still giggling and stumbled slightly as he propelled her as swiftly as he could along the corridor, his arms around her shoulder and waist. Some passing ensign turned his head to see who was so intimately intertwined with Commander Riker.

When the were in the nearest turbolift he stopped it between floors and took her arms. "Maya. Look at me."

She gazed at him, her eyes luminous. "Yes, Commander."

"One, call me Will. Two - what was that party trick? I need to know."

"Molecular transformation."

"What is that, an ability of your species?"

She smiled. "Some of us. It takes practice."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Am I dangerous? It's just me. It's always me."

"Okay. Deck nineteen."

To his relief, the corridors on deck nineteen seemed deserted. He managed to get her to her quarters without anyone else seeing, and sat her on the sofa. "Let's see if you can drink the water this time."

As he was getting it from the replicator, his comm badge sounded. "Picard to Commander Riker."

"Riker here."

"What's the situation, Number One?"

"Under control, sir. I've escorted Maya back to her quarters, I'm there now. She's given me a brief explanation of what we witnessed in your quarters. In my opinion it poses no threat to the security of the Enterprise."

"Understood. I want a full briefing tomorrow. Do you require medical assistance?"

"No, sir, I don't think that will be necessary."

"I want to see you before the 0700 hours briefing tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

"Picard out."

Riker turned round and saw that Maya had slid down on the sofa and looked quite comfortably asleep. He wondered if he ought to leave her there, but she might fall off in the night. She would be better off in bed. Carefully, he eased his arms under her and gathered her up.

She was heavy. Her face rolled snugly into his neck and he could feel the texture of her copious hair, warm and silky. As he carried her through to the bedroom he was unable to suppress a flare of desire, and for a moment he stood still and uneasily enjoyed the feel of her body.

She stirred. "Tony," she said in a small, sleepy voice. Her arms twined round his neck. "Tony." She tried to kiss him.

"Hold it, Maya, I'm not Tony." Her lips had grazed his. He disengaged her and let her fall as gently as he could onto the bed.

Her eyes opened and she looked at him, unfocussed and puzzled. "Where's Tony? I want him. Please get him. Where is he?"

"On Moonbase Alpha, I guess. Come on, Maya, lie down. There we are. Are you okay?"

She said nothing. She had rolled willingly onto her side and closed her eyes again, and after a few moments Riker decided she was soundly asleep. Her breathing sounded normal. He eased off her shoes and pulled the bedcover over her.

Perhaps the wisest thing to do, given her recent accident, would be to call Beverly. But he wanted to spare her any more embarrassment and exposure, and as a compromise he decided to stay with her. There was a reasonably comfortable-looking chair in the corner of the bedroom. He kicked off his own boots and sank into it, as much to think as to sleep.

So, there was somebody called Tony, was there. Somebody she seemed pretty soppy about. The disappointment ate into him slowly as her watched her still form, spreading through his stomach like a physical pain. For a time he felt low and dark and almost disinclined to move. The intensity of the feeling was unexpected, but made one thing clear to him; he was more serious about her than he had acknowledged until now. The possibility had become a reality, and he was already ensnared.

Accepting this, he began to feel better. His spirits were never low for long. The bitterness dissolved and his thoughts became more constructive. This Tony person was not here on the Enterprise and he, Riker, was. She had moreover failed to mention him even once in all their conversations, and they had talked about her life on Alpha a lot. Tony could be someone she had shared something with in the past, which she was now remembering. There were many possible scenarios.

He was certain that she was not married, and really that was all that mattered. Maya was far from stupid. She must realise that he was attracted to her. Even if there was a Tony, until she chose to mention him in sober waking state he could proceed with impunity as if there were not.

He settled down with these more comforting ideas and fell asleep, fully and soundly as always.

Maya woke up suddenly, with a feeling of fear. Her head was filled with a dull pulsating pain that moved with her and she was afraid to open her eyes fully. The glow of the bedside lamp, which switched itself on to signal the ship's daybreak, was too bright.

She closed her eyes tight and curled up. Her mind was horribly clear. She remembered, in sharp picture-liked detail, what had happened at the party. When Commander Riker had given her the beer she had been touched - quite surprised that he had remembered their conversation, and acted on it - and she had drunk it all to show that she was pleased. It had also tasted nice, sweet and rich and malty. In fact it had gone down so easily that she had been on the fourth bottle before she realised the effect it was having on her, and by that time she had been in a detached daze. Losing her self-consciousness was like suddenly no longer having a pain that she had hardly been aware of. It had been delightful to be in a room of strangers, light-years from home, and not to care.

"Good morning."

Maya risked opening her eyes. Commander Riker was standing by the bed, looking at her with a faint smile.

"How are you feeling?"

She couldn't reply. She pressed her hands against her eyes. The bed moved as he sat on its edge.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have given you real alcohol and I should have realised you'd have no tolerance."

"What are you doing here?" she managed to say.

"I brought you back, then I thought I ought to stay to make sure that you were okay."

She remembered now, in flashes. She had a dream-like recollection of looking at him and thinking that he was very attractive, and a feeling that she had been close to him.

"You should try to drink some more water," he was saying. "It'll help. I'll get you some."

He left the room and Maya tried to get up. As soon as she moved she was seized by violent nausea and she only just managed to get through to the bathroom before everything she had eaten yesterday came back up.

Utterly humiliated, sick and dizzy, she sank to the floor. Her eyes were streaming and her head was throbbing.

Commander Riker knelt beside her and put his arms round her to support her. She was too weak to feel the indignity. "I'm going to call Dr Crusher."

"No - no. Please don't. Please."

"Okay."

"I feel slightly better now - oh no, I couldn't drink it - "

"You've got to, otherwise you'll get more dehydrated. Go on, or I'll have to call the doctor."

Slowly, she managed to get the glass of water down. Commander Riker helped her to her feet and led her back to the bedroom, where she collapsed onto the bed.

"I've got to go," he said. "We have a briefing at 0700 hours and the Captain wants to see me beforehand. I should be able to look in on you in a couple of hours. If you feel worse, promise me you'll call sickbay."

His voice was gentle, and when she half-opened her eyes she saw that he was gazing down at her with a look of direct, steady tenderness. Her body did not have the strength to react with alarm or with anything. She curled onto her side, trying to roll up and disappear.

She felt him arrange the sheet over her, and he said as he went, "Try to remember - you'll be better by this afternoon. Nobody ever died of a hangover."

"But I want to," she muttered, pulling the cover over her head.

She was too preoccupied with physical wretchedness to think very clearly, but she was haunted by the looks of horror on the faces of the party guests and the image of the glass of water smashing at Commander Riker's feet. She wasn't going to be able to leave her quarters, or face anyone else, until they got to Alpha. And that was days and days away.