Chapter 13

Picard looked up as Riker entered his ready room. "Ah, Commander…Will, please have a seat."

Riker sat down across from the Captain slowly but his mind was racing. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Picard shut off his computer and clasped his hands on the table in front of him. His expression indicated he regretted having to bring up an uncomfortable subject. But there was something else in the Captain's eyes, something that Will Riker did not recognize. "Commander, we are about to embark on a very risky venture…the Klingons and the Romulans together promise to be a handful to say the least."

"Yes sir," Riker agreed.

"And so I need to know that I can trust my crew," said Picard standing up, tugging at his shirt and walking over to the replicator. "Water," he said and a full glass spun into existence. He drank the entire glass in one swallow and then examined the empty glass as though deep in thought. He turned back around and fixed Riker with a probing stare. "I can trust you, can't I Will?"

Riker shifted in his chair uncomfortably. Where was this coming from? "Yes, of course, sir; without question." He thought that trust was understood. And yet, Picard was suddenly questioning it.

Riker watched as Picard absently rubbed the back of his neck where Beverly had said she had seen an open wound…and yet now there was nothing. "Hmm…yes, without question." His eyes flashed suddenly. "And yet you went behind my back…you accused me of assaulting Lt. Commander Data? And you told this to Beverly of all people."

Riker stood up. "Sir, to be fair, I did not accuse you of anything. I simply took a report from Lt. Commander Data in which he said that you injured him sir…in order to obtain the artifact."

My artifact, Picard thought. "And then what?" Picard snapped. "You believed him?" He poked himself in the chest. "You just assumed that I had gone off the deep end, didn't you?"

Riker's jaw tightened. "No sir. But Data doesn't…."

Picard sat down on the edge of his desk almost casually and looked up at Riker. "Data doesn't what? Data doesn't lie? You didn't even consider asking my side of the story. Even Data is capable of making a mistake, Riker."

"What is your side of the story, sir?"

Picard straightened and seemed rather pleased for the opportunity to explain himself. "I went to Data's laboratory to retrieve my artifact—he had been testing it. When I arrived, he gave it to me, and then I left." Picard and Riker stared at each other, and it was clear to Riker that it seemed that Picard believed most of what he had just said. Perhaps he really did not remember what had transpired, as Data had suggested earlier. But something about Picard's insistence made Riker think that at least part of the Captain feared that what Riker was suggesting was true.

Riker rubbed his beard. "Sir, with all due respect. Doctor Crusher and I both saw Data's arm. There were two inch deep fingerprint indentations in his wrist. Your blood was on his arm."

The look in Picard's eyes was one of challenge. "Was it even mine? Did you test the blood?"

Riker took a deep breath. "No sir." He deeply respected Picard in a way that bordered on reverence. The truth is he had not truly wanted to know that Captain Picard could be capable of such a thing. Data had been uninterested in pursuing the matter, and so Riker had decided not to say anything to anyone other than Data and Crusher. He could see now that this had been a mistake. Picard would have reacted differently had he confronted him right away.

Picard shook his head. "You know very well that I am not strong enough to inflict that kind of damage on Data. No one on this ship is—aside from Mr. Data himself."

"Under normal circumstances, sir….but maybe something has happened to you sir. Maybe something is changing you, giving you power that you didn't have before."

Picard walked away from Riker and sat down behind his desk. "Thank you for your time, Commander. You are dismissed."

Riker stood for a few more moments feeling helpless before exiting the ready room.

When Picard arrived at his quarters, he stood silently for a few minutes. Both Beverly and Riker thought he was dangerous. They didn't believe him. He walked over to his personal desk and stared down at it. Everything was in order, just as it always was. But things were not at all in order inside his mind. He placed his palm on the table and an image of Beverly's shocked and frightened face played through his mind. Suddenly he flew into a silent rage, flipping the desk over, throwing his computer into the wall. Chest heaving, he found his mind was now clearer. He knew what to do now. Beverly had been right. He had to get rid of the artifact. He needed to be free.

He walked into his bedroom and saw it immediately. The small black rock was sitting on his dresser, right next to the mirror. He walked forward and opened a drawer, pulling out a spare combadge. Walking back out to the replicator he replicated a glass of water and then brought it back into his bedroom. The rock was still there. Part of him had expected it to move. He used the sleeve of his uniform to sweep the artifact into the glass of water. Immediately the water swirled with black as though he had dropped old fashioned ink into the glass. His hand shook, and he questioned what he was doing. But he had to be resolved. He had to do it. He placed the glass down and then dropped his combadge into the water. "Computer lock onto my coordinates and beam to coordinates 33.2 mark 4." He stepped back and watched enraptured as the glass disappeared into nothingness.

"Picard to Doctor Crusher." Beverly looked up from her work. An image flashed through her mind of Jean-Luc screaming at her like some kind of monster. She blinked back tears.

"Crusher here," she said.

"Beverly…are you alone?"

"Why?" she asked him coldly. She looked over her shoulder, and then felt guilty that she was beginning to feel afraid of him.

"I—I want to tell you something…."

"Go ahead," she said. He sounded very sad and almost desperate.

"First of all, I am truly sorry for the way I acted, for the things I said. I was very wrong, and…and I want you to know I would never hurt you Beverly."

She walked to the small replicator on the wall. "Tissue," she said, and then dabbed her eyes with it when one appeared.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said.

"I also wanted to tell you that I—I got rid of it. Just like you said. Beverly, you were right. It took hold of me somehow. I was becoming someone different. You were so right…."

She broke into a smile. "You got rid of it? But how do you feel?"

"Fine, I feel just fine now. I beamed it out into space."

Despite her happiness, she began to cry again. "I'm very proud of you Jean-Luc. But I have to get back to work now."

"Alright…thank you for listening," he said.

Several hours later…

He leaned down and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. She stirred and then turned into his hand pressing her lips against his skin in her sleep. He leaned down and kissed her on her temple, lingering a moment to smell her hair. He felt somewhat guilty for coming into her quarters unannounced, especially with Wesley in the other room. But it had been wrong the way things had been left between them earlier that evening. And he wanted her to wake up so that they could be together, making everything alright again. He did not want to go to sleep.

He traced his hand along the contour of her collarbone. She stirred again and then opened her eyes. For a moment there was a look on her face that sent a shock of pain through his heart. She seemed afraid to find him there. Why was she afraid of him? Something he never would have wished for. He shouldn't have come.

Still not saying a word, she sat up in bed and studied his face in the dark looking into his eyes. He held his breath almost sure she would tell him to leave. But then she put her hands behind his neck and pulled him in for a slow kiss. After a few moments she pulled away and studied his face again.

"I'm sorry, Beverly," he said. "I'm sorry for what I said," he insisted.

She nodded. "I know," she said. She kissed him again, pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it to the floor. She moved over in bed and he climbed in beside her, hopeful that everything would soon be alright again.

The next morning…in orbit around Kronos

Beverly screamed. Professionally she was used to the sight of blood, but not in her bed. And there was so much of it. She pushed herself away from Jean-Luc who lay curled up with his back to her. The wound that had miraculously healed itself and then disappeared was now visible again as though it had just been inflicted, and was bleeding heavily. The sheets were soaked in it as was the front of her nightgown. Frantic she tumbled out of bed and grabbed for her med-kit. She ran back to Jean-Luc, who grunted and pushed himself to a sitting position, still facing away from her.

"Mom?" Wesley jogged in to her bedroom in his pajamas, stopping short. "Mom! Are you okay?" His mother was shaking almost uncontrollably, grabbing tools from her med kit, while Captain Picard sat naked from the waist up on her bed, and his back was covered in blood.

"Wesley, stay where you are!" Beverly shouted.

"But the Captain…."

Picard felt his neck, just seeming to realize that something was wrong, and then turned to regard Wesley, looking somewhat dazed. He put up his blood-stained hand as if to warn the boy off. "Wesley, please…don't come any closer."

Wesley stood frozen, watching as his mother attempted to close the wound on the Captain's back. It wasn't working, and the wound continued to bleed. He could tell his mother was beginning to grow desperate. "Computer, two to beam to sick bay," she shouted.

Picard awoke on his side. His right arm was asleep and he felt weak and groggy. He blinked and the lighting confirmed that he was in sick bay. A thick bandage was wrapped around his torso, and his back throbbed. It was the wound. Suddenly his gaze focused on a small table next to the bed. There rested the artifact. The very one which he had transported out into space. It was here.

Just then Beverly Crusher walked into the recovery room. "How are you?" she asked. She looked worried and scared.

"Alright," he mumbled. She had not noticed the presence of the artifact yet.

"Jean-Luc, I have to tell you something. I've tried everything…but I can't stop the bleeding. I can't explain it."

He closed his eyes. "I can. It's the artifact. It's the only thing that will heal this wound."

Her eyes followed his to the table top. A bolt of fear shot through her. How in the hell had it re-appeared? "How do you know?" was all she could manage to get out hoarsely.

"He told me," said Picard weakly. "He told me I cannot give it up without making my wounds worse. He is using it to keep hold of me."

She knelt down beside him. "Who, Jean-Luc? Who is he?"

"I don't know who…or what he is. But he speaks to me. He's inside my mind and he controls my dreams. He makes me fight for him….his enemies. That is how I came to be wounded."

"Jean-Luc, we can't allow that to happen any longer. We have to find out who or what this is controlling you and we have to stop it."

If he was listening to her, it didn't stop him from reaching out to grab the artifact in his fist. He cried out and then brought it to his chest. Slowly the color flowed back into his skin and his face relaxed. A slow smile stretched his features and he closed his eyes. He sat up and stretched out his arms.

Silently, Beverly moved around behind him and began to unravel the bandages. When she reached the skin on his back, she ran her hand over it disbelievingly. The wound was completely gone.

Ensign Barnes was exhausted. He wasn't sure why. A few days ago he had been assigned as part of the security detail that would accompany Captain Picard and the away team to Kronos. To say that Barnes was excited and eager to prove himself was an understatement. He was absolutely devoted to Captain Picard, who up until this point had not seemed to notice him. But Captain Picard had chosen him specifically for this mission and he could not have been happier.

So why was he so tired? Last night he had awoken to find himself sleepwalking in his tiny kitchen. He had never sleep walked before, at least as far as he knew. And this morning he had been so sore, it felt like he had just played a game of rugby the night before. He examined the strange bruises on his ribs in the mirror. Every now and then he heard a slight whispering. "You and others will join your captain to complete my army," the voice told him. "You will serve him when he ascends to the throne, overseeing my kingdom until the enemy has been defeated."

He tried to ignore it, and hoped it would go away. He knew if he told anyone about his unexplained bruises and voices in his head, he would be pulled from the away team. So it was that Ensign Barnes decided to go about his day as though nothing was out of the ordinary.