Author's Note: Thank you for reading and for your kudos, reviews, likes, and support! This is such an absolute pleasure to write. I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed weaving it together.
Chapter four drops Monday! I intended to publish them together. However, that isn't going to be possible. In the meantime, please enjoy this latest update.
This is intended to be a fun, light-hearted story full of mystery and fluff.
Yes, the clock is heavily inspired by the Weasley family clock. It seemed like such a wonderful addition to the story from both the aspect of backing up Quincy's claims and because of Guinan's relationship to time and space. Since she's always the one that can sense things (and her character's role in the murder mystery plot has ties to 'time') it seemed too good an idea to pass over.
And now, the game is afoot!
Data looked around the room as he attempted to determine if there was an alternative exit.
The rain pummelling the glass door to the balcony reminded him that option was certainly a possibility, but he would prefer to avoid the storm.
He took off his jacket and tossed it onto the bed.
It took him 4.17 seconds to eliminate all of the objects he and Tasha had previously investigated in the room, and he was able to quickly rule out the other two paintings and the lamp in the corner.
There were no clues to be found in the desk.
Nothing in the nightstand proved useful either.
He needed to get out of this room. He reasoned it was likely this was the triggering event, and it would be pertinent that he not lose any time in investigating whatever was about to occur.
Data also considered the possibility that Tasha's earlier suspicions were right – she may be the intended victim of whatever crime was certain to happen.
If so, it could mean the perpetrator would come to him since he was trapped in the room at the moment. And if the perpetrator were to enter the room they could come through the balcony or the secret passage.
It was possible Geordi was the suspect.
It was equally as possible that their discovery of the passage was intended to frame Geordi.
In fact, he thought, he might be in the right place. Perhaps Tasha had forgotten her bag on purpose knowing full well it would bring him to her room?
Data cocked his head to the side as he considered this line of thinking.
He needed more information. He also needed to find Tasha because it was likely the idea of being trapped in a room – even one without the mysterious secret passage – had her on edge.
He couldn't wait for the murder or murderers to show up here.
No, he would have to scour this room from top to bottom – starting at the base.
Miles O'Brien was a resourceful man.
Once he'd heard the holographic butler announce they were locked in, he knew it was time to get to work.
Opening the bag he'd brought along, he quickly found his emergency set of tools.
This was no ordinary Starfleet Engineer's toolkit and Miles thanked his lucky stars his mum had been a stubborn old bird to the end.
Although all of his modern tools including his sonic driver, decoupler, and field replicator were gone, his antique screwdriver, pliers, adjustable wrench, and lockpicking set were still intact.
He took his jacket off and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.
Miles loosened his tie and set to work on attempting to open the door.
He inserted the tension wrench and slid in the rake as he tried to apply pressure to the pins. It had been a few years since he'd attempted this in a holodeck programme, but he knew his skills weren't too rusty.
Despite his best efforts, he seemed unable to set the pins.
After several minutes he gave up.
Opting for his second, although less preferred option, Miles grabbed the chair from his desk and got to work on getting out of his room.
Long way down. Worf thought.
His head was hanging out of his window as he eyed the ground below his window.
At the very least, the rain and damp ground would make for a softer landing than if it were dry.
Worf did not want to get wet, but he felt he had no choice.
After all, he was supposed to be the personal body guard of Commander Riker's character Colonel Wyatt. He could not fail in that duty, even if was merely a fictional role in a holonovel.
The wind whipped up and the long curtains that draped the window thrashed around.
It gave him an idea.
Pulling his head back into the room, he took a gander at all of the material at his disposal – literally.
Grabbing the knife he had brought in his personal bag, he made quick work of stripping the curtains and bedding. He tore them into strips and tied them to one of the bed posts.
It didn't take him long to braid the strips together.
Once that was complete, he tied the various braided pieces into a long rope. He secured it to the bed and tossed the other end out the window and down the edge of the house.
Giving it a quick tug to test his handiwork, he was pleased.
Worf removed the nice, brocaded jacket he had worn for dinner. There was no use in ruining such a fine garment. He also stripped off his tie and gloves.
He was about to begin when he suddenly stopped.
He sat down and felt the bottom of his dress shoes.
Worf shook his head and pulled off his shoes and socks.
They were far too slippery, no grip. He would have better traction working his way down the wall in his bare feet.
Slowly, he climbed out the window and worked his way down along the wall. It was difficult to grasp the makeshift rope as the curtains and sheets didn't offer much to hold onto and the rain certainly didn't help.
He was about two meters from the bottom when the makeshift rope snapped and he fell, hitting the wet grass on his back.
Worf closed his eyes and groaned as he lay there a moment, the rain pelting his face.
Across the hallway, Keiko was delighted.
She had just slipped into her pyjamas and was brushing her hair when the announcement from the butler had come.
She had put down her hairbrush and grabbed the old-fashioned notebook she'd brought along.
Pen in hand, she was ready to start her investigation.
She had learned from Wesley- 'Young Wyatt,' she reminded herself - that there was a secret passageway that led from Professor La Roux's guestroom to Miss Moran's quarters.
Keiko knew something was bound to happen.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the wall.
Pressing her ear against it, she listened carefully.
Someone was knocking along the length of the wall. Based on where the sounds were emanating from, it was coming from the room where Ensign Sonya Gomez was staying.
Keiko knocked back twice.
"Ensign Gomez?" she said loudly.
She glanced at the notes on her desk.
"I meah, uh, Miss St James?" Keiko said again.
She didn't hear a voice, so she tried again a little louder.
On the other side of the wall, Sonya was knocking on the panel. When they had initially been assigned their rooms, Sonya had searched the space thoroughly.
During that time, she had discovered a panel that was a slightly bigger size than the others.
Once their lockdown began, Sonya had been trying to determine a way to open it.
Knocking along the edges hadn't revealed any hidden opening.
Sonya stopped. There was the sound of someone knocking and shouting on the other side.
"Hello? Professor Ishikawa?" she heard Sonya call from the other side.
"Yes!" Keiko shouted.
"I think there's a panel that opens between these two rooms," Sonya shouted. "There must be something on your end that opens it. Look for an object on the wall or maybe by a-"
Sonya squealed with delight as the panel suddenly slid to the side revealing Professor Ishikawa on the other side.
"Please, call me Keiko," she grinned as she waved for Sonya to come into her quarters.
Sonya stepped through the passageway and into Keiko's room.
"Grab a seat," Keiko said as she snagged her notes from the desk and joined the young Ensign by the fire.
"I'm sorry to bother you," Sonya said quickly. "This is just really exciting."
Keiko waved her off.
"Are you kidding me?" Keiko said with a grin. "I live for this kind of excitement!"
She settled into her chair with her notes in hand.
"I've been taking notes since we started and I think this is the triggering event," Keiko explained. "Or, at least, it's going to happen soon."
"So, somebody's gonna die," Sonya said as her eyes grew wide. "Well, pretend to die."
"Maybe," Keiko clarified. "Or abducted. It could be an item that goes missing or perhaps else happens. I was in a mystery party once where the mystery was finding out who burned the prize greenhouse down."
"That's a really good point," Sonya said as she looked off to the fire, deep in thought. "We don't know it's going to be a murder."
"I think we should start by finding a way out of here," Keiko explained.
"Before something finds us?" Sonya teased.
Both women jumped as there was a loud 'bang' from across the corridor.
The looked to the door and then back to one another.
"What was that?" Keiko asked.
They crept carefully to the doorway and pressed their ears to the wall, Keiko on one side of the door and Sonya on the other.
Sonya gasped as she heard footfalls on the wooden floor. She looked to Keiko who nodded that she could hear them as well.
They were drawing closer to the room.
The handle on the door began to turn.
Whoever it was, they were too close for the women to hide in the other room.
Since the door swung in, Keiko was behind it. She pressed herself flat against the wall as Sonya ducked behind an end table and tried to make herself as small as possible.
"Keiko?" Miles asked as he poked his head inside.
"I will be sleeping on the left side of the bed," Lwaxana stated.
Jean-Luc shook his head.
"I assure you Mrs Troi that I will not be staying in here," he declared.
"Pity," Lwaxana replied dryly as propped herself up on her elbow.
Jean-Luc started to search about the room to see if there was any way to escape. Tasha had informed him of the passage they had discovered in her own quarters, and he was hopeful there would be some kind of similar hidden route in this room.
"If you're so desperate to get out of here, why don't you try that panel on the ceiling?" Lwaxana suggested.
Jean-Luc turned back to her. Lwaxana said nothing but pointed up to the ceiling above the bed. Following her gaze, he spotted a ceiling panel that was different than the rest.
Although the entire ceiling was decorated with ornate copper panels with a circular design, this panel appeared to have swirls and vines.
Stepping closer, Jean-Luc could confirm it was different than the rest.
Glancing around the room for a tool, he grabbed the fire poker and stepped onto the bed.
Using the corner post for support, Jean-Luc climbed onto the headboard to give himself some extra height. Still gripping the post, he leaned forward and prodded the tile with the fire poker.
It did not move.
He pushed a little harder. It shifted slightly, but it seemed as if there was some kind of weight preventing it from moving.
Spurred on by the idea of otherwise having to spend the night trapped with Lwaxana, Jean-Luc put all of his body weight into trying to open the panel. Rather than opening the ceiling passageway, he lost his balance and fell onto the bed.
There was a quick knock at the door, and it opened before Jean-Luc knew what was happening.
"Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked.
He rolled onto his side, wide-eyed as he saw a mop of red curls poking her head in the door.
"Am I interrupting anything?" she asked innocently.
"No, no, no, Doctor," he insisted as he sat up.
"You're certainly not going to open it by forcing your way in with that little stick," Lwaxana said.
Jean-Luc looked back at the Betazoid, scandalised.
"A joke, Jean-Luc," Lwaxana replied with a grin.
Beverly cocked an eyebrow.
"Are you sure?" Beverly asked, unable to supress a grin.
Jean-Luc rolled off the bed and walked toward the door.
"I was attempting to open a panel on the ceiling. There's some kind of passageway there," he explained as he pointed above the bed.
Beverly stepped into the room and approached the bed.
"Where the panel is," Jean-Luc said.
"Where?" Beverly asked.
"See, there where the design in the copper tile is different," he said.
"Where?" Beverly repeated as she scanned the ceiling.
Jean-Luc turned around to see the panel was gone.
"It was just there!" he exclaimed. "A moment ago."
"Uh, huh," Beverly nodded. "I'm supposed to believe the ceiling just magically changed?"
"And we're supposed to believe you came here to free us?" Picard challenged. "You know something, don't you, Doctor? How else could you manage to be in the corridor after the all the doors were sealed?"
"You were in here," Beverly replied, throwing his logic back at him.
"Then how did you manage to escape?" he asked her.
"I went to check on Wesley and I happened to be in the corridor when the lockdown began. When I returned to my room, I was able to able to open the door. Since it seemed the rooms could be opened from the outside, I went to your room next Jean-Luc," she explained. "And this is the third one I've tried."
Jean-Luc leaned back against the wall as Beverly asked what they should do now.
Without warning, Lwaxana clasped her forehead in pain.
"Oh my," she cried as she sat up.
"Mrs Troi? Are you alright?" Beverly asked as she moved over to the Ambassador.
Lwaxana waved her off.
"I'm fine," she explained. "But someone is terrified."
Mrs Troi got up and made her way to the door. Stepping out into the darkened corridor, she tried to identify the source with Captain Picard and Beverly in tow.
As she approached the quarters next to her own, the sensation grew stronger.
Reg screamed when the door to his room opened.
"Calm down," Lwaxana said in soothing voice.
Captain Picard and Beverly peeked into the room to see Lieutenant Barclay clutching his pillow, wide-eyed, frightened, and still screaming.
"Reg!" Beverly said as she tried to get him to recognise they were friendly faces.
His breathing began to slow as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"C-c-captain," he stammered before swallowing hard.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out in the distance.
Reg screamed again.
Jean-Luc and Beverly exchanged an excited look.
"Go," Lwaxana told them. "I'll look after him."
Beverly and Jean-Luc took off down the hallway as Lwaxana stepped into Reg's room.
"I know you're afraid," she told him. "It's a big, spooky house. Not to mention someone probably just died."
She sat down on the edge of his bed.
"And on top of that you feel more than a little out of place," she went on.
"I-I-uh, well, I don't always f-f-feel like I fit in with the other officers, you see," Reg said stumbling over his words. "I didn't expect to b-b-be invited."
"It's not such a bad thing to stick out," Lwaxana said. "You know I've never fit into any room I've walked into."
"Well, that didn't work," Will Riker said as he put the rifle back on the wall.
"I told you," Deanna said.
"Maybe someone else got out and they'll come find us?" Wesley suggested.
"I'm pretty sure the whole house heard it," Deanna quipped.
"What in the world do you people think you are doing?" Quincy snapped as he burst into the room. "This is a home not a wild west saloon!"
He stepped into the room properly and let out an exasperated sigh.
"What are you two doing in here?" Quincy asked as he looked to Deanna and Wesley.
"You locked us in here!" Wesley fired back.
"For your own protection," Quincy insisted.
"Protection from what?" Riker questioned as his eyes narrowed on the mysterious butler.
"Professor Mith?" Tasha asked with a small smile.
Lore didn't respond.
"Aren't you Inspector Fury's great rival?" she asked.
"I am," Lore replied.
"Ah! Then I suppose I should be frightened being locked in here with you?" Tasha teased as she poked his chest.
"You should be," he cautioned as he gripped her wrist.
It wasn't hard, but hard enough to hold her there.
"You aren't supposed to be in here," he said. "What would the others say knowing that Miss Moran spent the night in the Inspector's bed?"
"Kind of moot point since he isn't here," Tasha retorted.
Before Lore could respond, she had a question.
"Speaking of being here, how'd you get in?" Tasha asked.
Lore had slipped in before the doors had locked via a secret passageway. It was a spiral staircase hidden next to the fireplace. The stairs ran down to the first floor where they exited behind a statue in the corridor near the library.
"There's a passageway," he confessed.
"Well, I don't care if you want to play Professor Mith or Inspector Fury. Makes no difference to me," Tasha said.
He froze as she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, utterly perplexed and feeling more than a little offended that she didn't take the threat of him seriously.
"I'm going to bed, so hand over my bag so I can change," she said.
He cocked his head to the side. And then looked her up and down.
"I believe your attire is suitable," he stated.
"For what?" she said with a giggle.
"Come along," he said as he took her hand and guided her toward the passage by the fireplace.
It hadn't been the response she was expecting, but she wasn't about to stop him from enjoying himself. She believed he was having the time of his life solving this mystery.
And if it made him happy, that was enough for her.
"Data? What are you doing?" Geordi asked as he activated the passage that led into Tasha's rooms.
Data was down on the ground on all fours looking at the moulding that ran along the wall.
"Hello, Professor La Roux," Data said as he stood up.
"Where's Tasha?" Geordi asked as he looked around.
"Why are you concerned about Miss Moran's whereabouts?" Data inquired.
It felt wrong to question Geordi's motives, but he was a suspect.
"Why isn't she in her room?" Geordi countered.
"Why are you in her room?" Data asked.
Geordi shook his head.
"Ok, Inspector," Geordi said with a sigh. "I thought she might be a little on edge being alone. I came to check and make sure she was alright."
"That is very considerate," Data said, dropping out of character. "Thank you, Geordi."
Geordi looked around the room.
Before he could ask a question, Data spoke.
"She's upstairs," Data said, anticipating his friend's question. "I came down to fetch her bag when we were sealed inside."
In the distance, they heard a gunshot ring out.
Data listened intently, straining his audio receptors for any sounds of a scream, footfalls, or other clues.
"That came from the north end of the house," Data identified.
"We should try and find a way out of here," Geordi suggested.
All of a sudden, the door sprung open and in stepped one of the holographic valets from earlier.
"You aren't supposed to be in here," he said as he eyed the pair.
Data and Geordi exchanged a glance.
"Your presence is requested in the library," the man stated before he gave them a low bow before exiting the room.
Data and Geordi nodded to the hologram and made their way out into the corridor.
Miles looked around the room but didn't spot anyone.
He stepped into the room proper. There was no sign of Keiko.
"What are you doing in here, Miles?" Keiko said as she stepped out from behind the door.
He spun around to see Keiko holding a candlestick.
"Whoa! Put that away before you hurt someone," Miles said as he put his hands up and backed away slowly.
"How come you weren't locked in like the rest of us?" Keiko asked.
"Yeah, explain that!" Sonya said as she stood up.
"What are you doing here?" Miles said, downright confused as to what was happening.
"You could be the killer," Keiko theorised.
"Or either of you," Miles retorted. "You're the one wielding a candlestick!"
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
"You're walking about in the middle of the night after the rest of us were locked in!" Keiko exclaimed.
"I wasn't walking about," Miles insisted angrily.
Neither Keiko nor Sonya believed him.
"Then just how did you manage to get out of your room?" Sonya asked.
"How did you get in here? Huh?" Miles asked.
They were at a stalemate.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out.
Miles breathed an audible sigh of relief.
"See?" he said as he held his hand out in the direction of the darkened corridor.
"I'm sorry I doubted I you," Keiko smiled with glee.
A moment later, footfalls could be heard. Someone was fast approaching the door.
"Hide!" Sonya squeaked as they all scrambled to find a hiding place.
Keiko pressed herself against the wall. Sonya tucked herself back down below the nightstand.
Miles looked around frantically as the steps grew closer. It was evident that, whoever it was, they were running.
At the last second, he rolled under the bed.
"This is odd," Beverly said as her and Jean-Luc stepped into the room. "The door is open but there's no one here."
She jumped as Miles poked his head out from under the bed.
"Evening," he said with an awkward wave. "Captain, Doctor."
Keiko shot him a look.
"He means, good evening Lord Moran and Miss Mansfield," Keiko said as she stepped out from behind the door.
"And to you Miss Collins," Picard smiled as he turned to Keiko.
He was thrilled someone else was taking this mystery seriously.
"Hi," a voice said from behind them nervously.
Picard didn't need to turn around to know it was Ensign Sonya Gomez.
"Ah, Miss," he wracked his brain as he tried to recall her name.
"Bettie St James," she replied eagerly before clearing her throat and adding, "sir."
"St James, yes," Picard nodded. "You do seem to crop anytime something happens."
Miles pulled himself out from under the bed. He stood up and brushed himself off from the dust on the floor.
"That was a gunshot," he said.
He put his hands on his hips.
"Why were you two out running through the halls when a gunshot went off?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows.
"We heard it go off and wanted to see what happened," Beverly explained. "We saw the light in the corridor and thought we should check it out."
Keiko grabbed her pen and was about to start interrogating the pair when a valet appeared in the doorframe.
He scoffed as he took in the sight of them all together in the room.
"Your presence is requested in the library," he informed them.
"Is there a problem?" Picard asked noting the holographic man seemed upset.
"Only that you lot are incapable of staying out of trouble," the man replied in a snooty tone.
He turned his nose up and vanished into the darkness of the long corridor that ran along that particular wing of the house.
Beverly and Jean-Luc exchanged a glance.
"Well, I suppose we had best make our way to the library," Picard said.
"Now then, let's get out of this room," Lwaxana said. "It's giving me the creeps."
She stood up and offered her hand to Reg as she helped him out of bed.
"I'm sure we can find something to get up to," she said.
As terrifying as his room was, the prospect of exploring the house was scarier still.
"You'll want to put this on," Lwaxana said as she tossed a dressing gown to him.
She eyed his baggy, striped pyjamas.
"Stripes are so last season," she said.
She stepped over to him and smoothed the collar on his dressing gown.
"That's better," she smiled. "Very dapper."
Reg blushed, unsure of how to respond.
Lwaxana knew she was being a little over-motherly, but she had read his mind. She knew Reg had a close relationship with his own mother and that he missed her dearly. She hoped that, in a way, this would help him calm down.
She hated sensing people in such distress, and she knew this man was poor nervous wreck at the moment.
Lwaxana stepped over to a candelabra in the corner. There was a box of antique matches on table, and it gave her an idea.
"I'm not quite sure what do with this," she said. "Could you help?"
She knew how to light the matches. But she suspected that giving Reg a chance to help would give him something to focus on and perhaps spark a little confidence.
"Ah, y-y-you take it like this," Reg said as he pulled a match from the pack. "Fold over the top and then strike it."
He struck the match. With a shaky hand, he lit the candles. Just before it burned too low, he licked his thumb and forefinger and put the match out with a small hiss.
"Marvellous," Lwaxana smiled.
She picked up the candelabra.
"Let's go," she said as she motioned to the corridor.
They didn't make it far before Reg lost his nerve.
Down at the end of the corridor a clock chimed signalling that it was midnight.
Reg threw his hands up.
"I can't do this," he said quickly as he turned back to his room.
"Oh yes you can," Lwaxana said as she took of his hand.
She turned him around and steered him back down the corridor.
"You know we are in a unique position," Lwaxana told him. "Since everyone was locked in."
They continued a few more steps and Lwaxana could feel he was still tense.
"We were able to open your door from the outside," Lwaxana went on as she tried to lead his thoughts. "I wonder if it works that way with all the doors?"
"P-perhaps we should help them?" Reg suggested.
"That's a brilliant idea," Lwaxana said with a smile.
The pair wandered a few metres more in the darkness until the heard a noise.
It was the faint sound of music in the distance.
Swallowing his fears, Reg nodded to Lwaxana that he was ready to move forward.
As the grew closer to the door, the music got louder.
Reg recognised it as something he'd heard before but couldn't place the tune. It was jazzy, like something Riker would enjoy.
Reg closed his eyes for a moment.
He was about to open the door when he pulled his hand back quickly.
"What's the hold up?" Lwaxana asked. "Surely, there can't be anything scary about a little jazz?"
"I-I-I just realised what if someone's in there?" Reg said as paranoia set in.
"I believe someone is in there," Lwaxana replied. "That's why we're going to open the door."
A beat passed.
"Right?" Lwaxana prompted.
"But what if it's some of the crew enjoying an evening," Reg gulped. "Together."
The last thing Reg wanted to do was walk in and ruin some romantic evening between Commander Riker and Counsellor Troi or the Chief and Keiko.
They two looked at each other for a moment and Reg tipped his head a few times to try and convey his meaning.
"Oh," Lwaxana said softly as understanding dawned on her.
"We should go," Reg suggested.
"The more the merrier I always say," Lwaxana said with a casual shrug as she opened the door.
Reg clapped a hand over his eyes. Lwaxana took his hand and guided him inside.
Once they were inside, Reg risked a peek.
He screamed.
Guinan stopped dancing and turned around.
Reg screamed for a second time.
"Oh, calm down," Lwaxana said as she pulled his hand down from his eyes.
"What are you doing?" Guinan asked calmly.
She stepped over to the record player in the corner and lifted the needle, stopping the music.
"W-w-w came to free you," Reg replied.
"You interrupted Billie Holiday for this?" Guinan sighed.
"Didn't you hear the gunshot?" Lwaxana questioned.
"Of course, I heard the gunshot," Guinan replied coolly.
"Then why are you…" Reg trailed off as he vaguely gestured to the room.
When they had entered Guinan had been casually dancing and singing along with the music. She was wearing a cosy dressing gown and a face mask. She had a tall drink in one hand.
On a table in the corner, there was a plate of cheese and fruit and a series of cosmetics spread about.
"The man told us to go to bed and locked us in. I'm on vacation," Guinan replied. "And I intend to enjoy every minute of it."
Lwaxana stepped over to the table and picked up what appeared to be an antique print magazine.
She flipped through the pages and cast an approving look to Guinan.
"Sometime I'll tell you about that week I spent with Cary Grant," Guinan said to Lwaxana with a knowing smile. "But that's for another time."
She stepped over to the vanity and dipped a flannel into a bowl of warm water. She wiped the clay off her face.
"This does seem like a nice way to pass the time," Lwaxana commented as she plopped down in chair.
"Mmm hmm," Guinan agreed as she checked out her face in the mirror. "I don't get many evenings to myself on the Enterprise. So, I figured a little pampering was in order."
She turned back to the two.
"You're both welcome to stay," she offered. "Reg, I bet a little lavender aromatherapy would do you wonders."
Reg looked around nervously.
"Strong aromas tend to- ah," Reg sniffled and closed his eyes. "Bother my – ah -ah-"
He sneezed violently and quickly pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his dressing gown.-
"Nose," he finished thickly as he blew his nose loudly.
"Why does that not surprise me," Guinan said as shook her head.
"Should we, um, find the others?" Reg suggested.
"I'm perfectly content to remain here," Lwaxana said as she flipped through the magazine filled with the likes of James Dean and Gene Kelley.
A groan from corridor brought their attention to a valet standing in the doorway.
"And we had so hoped you would be the one that would follow directions," he sighed as he looked to Guinan.
"What's going on?" Guinan asked.
"Your presence is required in the library," the valet explained.
"I guess we'd better get down there," Reg said.
Reluctantly, Lwaxana put the magazine down on the table and the three made their way into the darkness.
Tasha followed the man she thought was Data down the stone staircase as it wound down and around. It was dark, but his android optical receptors allowed him to see as well as if were daylight.
A loud bang rippled through the darkness. It was slightly muffled by thick stone wall of the passage, but Tasha could still clearly identify it.
It was just like the crude projection weapons some of the clans on Turkana used.
"That was a gunshot," she said as she stopped. "A rifle."
"Yes," Lore replied.
He tried to pull her along, but she stayed still, listening for any additional noises – another shot, a scream – anything that could help her piece together what was going on.
"Wait," she said as she listened.
He rolled his eyes, but she couldn't see that in the dark.
After a moment she shook her head, there were no further sounds.
"Can you identify which direction it came from?" Tasha asked.
"Yes," Lore replied.
To Tasha's surprise, he did not elaborate.
"What direction did it come from?" Tasha pressed. "I think we should head there."
"It is immaterial to my plan," Lore answered bluntly.
When Data turned the opposite direction, Geordi didn't question it. He knew that he was going up to check on Tasha and he followed in tow.
However, they were surprised to find the room empty.
Geordi knocked on the door to the water closet. There was no response. After a moment he peeked his head inside.
"Tasha?" he asked.
She was gone.
"Maybe she got the same message we did," Geordi suggested. "You know, we're supposed to go to the library."
"It seems strange we did not meet her in the corridor," Data replied. "In particular if the same valet was sent to our wing."
Data spotted the dress she had been wearing tossed casually on the chair. He picked it up and cocked his head to the side.
"You don't think she was the intended victim, do you?" Geordi asked as he noticed Data in contemplation.
"But she was in my room," Data said.
He knew she had to be out there somewhere on the holodeck. But if the discarded dress was any clue, she was out there somewhere sans shoes and clothing.
He was struck by a thought.
Data stepped back from the chair and opened the wardrobe he had inspected earlier.
He smiled to himself when he noticed one of the button-up shirts that hung there earlier was now missing from its place.
"Inspector," Geordi said. "The next logical place to start is to head to the library. I'm sure we'll find out what happened there."
Data knew Geordi was right.
They made their way downstairs, neither requiring a light source to see clearly.
The pair had just stepped off the large, sweeping staircase that landed on the main corridor when Data spotting something in the darkness.
At the end of the corridor was Tasha. She cocked her head to the side and blinked a few times. Then she looked to her right and back at Data, bewildered.
"Tasha?" Data said softly.
Before she could respond she vanished into the darkness.
"Data, where are you going?" Geordi asked as he watched Data race off down the corridor.
Data did not respond.
Geordi was about to follow after him when Quincy appeared.
"Ah, Professor La Roux," Quincy said.
With a firm grip on his bicep, the butler guided Geordi through the double doors that led into the library.
Tasha had just stepped into the corridor with Professor Mith when she thought she saw Data standing at the bottom of the staircase. It was dark and she couldn't be sure.
Before she could question it, Professor Mith pulled her back into the passageway.
"I see they must be gathering in the library," he said. "Come this way."
He pressed a stone in the wall, and it slid aside to reveal the staircase continued down.
"This leads down to the cellar," he explained as he pulled her along.
They weren't far along when Tasha felt her foot hit something that was both wet and cold.
She was barefoot. The sensation of being barefoot on the damp, chilly floor of the stone passage was not appeasing.
The reached a landing and she was certain she was standing in water. She could feel it was past her ankles.
He grabbed a torch from the wall and lit it with a snap of his fingers.
She could see now she had been correct. The bottom of the cellar appeared to be flooded.
She wrapped her arms around him and shivered against the cold.
He looked down at her confused.
"It's freezing down here," Tasha said.
She could see he was contemplating how to respond.
"Yes, your organic form lacks the capability to withstand the elements," he said. "I forgot that you require a sufficient temperature for safety."
He chuckled.
"Humans," he said with a grin.
Tasha looked at him perplexed.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It's just that for a second there you sounded like...," she trailed off.
Tasha shook her head. It was a ridiculous notion.
"Like who?" Lore teased.
Perhaps she was more clever than he had anticipated.
"Forget it," she said as she shivered. "Let's get out of here."
"You were going to say I sounded like someone other than your precious Data," he taunted.
Tasha stiffened.
"I told you I am Professor Mith," he said in an attempt to impersonate his brother best he could.
She let a breath.
"Right," she said smile.
Of course. She thought, recalling Data's knack for getting carried away with a role.
A noise from the corner caught her attention. Tasha turned around. To her disgust she saw there were rats.
"Data, you do realise I'm not wearing shoes?" she asked repulsed by the sight of them climbing along the wine barrels that lined the walls.
He threw the torch down in the water and she gripped his arm tightly as the room went pitch black.
A second later, he scooped her up out of the water.
"Better?" he asked.
She wrapped her arms his neck in response.
"How do we get out of here?" she replied. "I can't see a thing."
"Our destination lies ahead," he explained. "My optical receptors do not require artificial light."
Cradling her in his arms, he waded through the flooded cellar.
The cellar seemed to twist and turn. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, it appeared to look more like they were in catacombs than a cellar.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"At the moment, away from the party," he said.
"Data, if you wanted to try it on, we could have stayed in your room!" Tasha groaned.
He looked down at her strangely but did not reply.
After a few more metres, he stopped.
"Here we are," he said with a grin.
Lore opened an old wooden door that revealed a set of stone steps. They led to the outdoors, covered only by a metal safety grate.
"We're going outside?" Tasha asked as she eyed the storm blowing above.
Lore set her down on the steps. Although playing damsel in the distress wasn't her idea of fun, she missed not having to stand on the cold stone in her bare feet.
"Do not go anywhere," Lore grinned.
He shut the door behind him, and Tasha heard it lock.
"Data!" she shouted as she pounded her fists on the door. "Data this isn't fun anymore!"
She tried the handle and then yelled for him again.
There was no response.
There wasn't much room, the stairs appeared to be cut into the terrain. She ducked low and crawled up to the exit where the storm raged above. She pushed on the rusted grate, but it did not budge.
Much to her dismay, there was a padlock securing it in place.
Tasha studied the grate for a moment, it was significantly rusted – including the hinges.
She pushed up her sleeves, now thoroughly soaked, and gave it her best.
It was to no avail.
"Damn," Tasha said as stepped back down toward the door.
She leaned her head back against the wall and tried not to panic.
Quincy guided Geordi into the library.
Glancing around he saw that everyone – with the exception of Data and Tasha was present.
Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher were in deep conversation. Wesley was chatting with Sonya and Keiko - who continued to excitedly gesture to her notes. Guinan was sitting in the corner, carefully studying everyone.
Over by the fireplace, Miles and Reg were hunched over a table. Lwaxana was mixing a drink.
Commander Riker was stretched out on the chaise lounge, and it was evident Deanna was scolding him for something. Riker grinned and shrugged before snuggling back against the pillow.
Worf, Data, and Tasha were absent.
"What happened?" Keiko asked.
"And where is Mr Wolf?" Lwaxana said as she leaned back against the wall, swirling her drink.
"In a moment," Quincy said with a wave of his hand.
He motioned for Geordi to join the others. Geordi slipped into a seat next to Reg at the table.
Quincy bounced back and forth on his heels, whistling.
After several minutes, Captain Picard sighed.
"We heard a gunshot," he said, frustrated by the lack of information.
Riker cleared his throat and waved his hand.
"Sharpshooter over here thought he could shoot his way out of his room," Deanna explained.
"Do we get to start the investigation now?" Wesley asked eagerly.
"Do we get to start the investigation now?" Quincy repeated in a mocking voice.
The irritated butler flopped down on a chair and sighed melodramatically. He ran his hands back through his hair before dropping his head to the table.
Everyone looked at one another, unsure of what to say.
Lwaxana was the first to find her voice.
"It seems we must first find the mystery before we can start it," she snapped.
Quincy sat up and rolled his eyes.
"That's what you all don't understand. Every detail has been meticulously planned," he said. "But you all seem incapable of sticking to that plan!"
The doors swung open violently and Worf stepped into the library.
He was soaked to the bone and dripping on the carpet.
"Oh goodie," Quincy said. "Who let the dog out in the rain?"
Worf snarled at the butler.
"What the bloody hell happened to you?" Miles asked as he offered Worf a seat by the fireplace.
"I was locked in," Worf replied as he sat down and warmed his hands on the roaring flames.
Beverly grabbed a blanket that was on the back of her chair and wrapped it around him.
"We all were," she said comfortingly.
"Don't tell me you went out the window?" Riker asked with a grin.
Worf shot him a look.
"How else was I supposed to get out?" Worf asked.
"I found a secret passage," Wesley said brightly.
"I didn't have a secret passage," Worf replied dryly.
"I didn't either," Miles said in solidarity.
Everyone turned to look at him.
"Then how did you get out?" Geordi asked.
"I took the door off," Miles shrugged.
Quincy got to his feet and swept over to the window.
"This is exactly what I'm talking about. Sneaking about, property damage, rule breaking," he huffed. "You people expect to solve a mystery, but you can't even manage to go to sleep properly."
"So, when does the investigation start?" Deanna asked, pressing the hologram for an answer.
"Contessa, we cannot begin until you start playing by the rules," Quincy said.
He began to pace back and forth across the carpet.
"For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction," he explained. "You were locked in to ensure you would be in the correct place at the correct time. However, as you cannot seem to behave, we've had to make alternative arrangements."
"Where are Tasha and Data?" Geordi asked.
He didn't like the sound of 'alternative arrangements.'
Quincy stopped and turned on his heel.
"Dearest Natalie broke the rules," Quincy informed them. "But I can assure you she is quite safe."
He could see the concern in their faces.
"Consider this a warning," Quincy said darkly. "Play by the rules, or there will be no mystery."
The door to the library swung open and Lore stepped in.
Quincy's eyes narrowed.
"Inspector," he said tightly. "How nice of you to join us."
"Why are your feet wet?" Wesley asked as he noted it appeared he'd been walking through water.
Lore looked down at his trousers, wet below the knees.
"There was an open window," he replied. "I slipped."
"Why are you wearing a jacket?" Geordi asked. "You didn't have that on when we came downstairs."
"I went back up to retrieve it," Lore said innocently.
A beat passed as Quincy and Lore eyed each other carefully.
Eventually, the butler cleared his throat.
"Inspector, may I ask that you keep an eye on everyone here whilst I escort them one by one back to their own rooms," Quincy said.
Lore nodded.
They group erupted in protest.
"Now, wait just a minute," Picard said as stepped forward. "I will not be held prisoner in my own home."
Quincy smiled. Picard really had thrown himself into the role.
"Nor will I see my guests treated as such," Picard went on.
The butler nodded as he motioned for Picard to continue.
"Now, we will agree to go along with your request and return to our rooms for the evening," Picard explained. "But you will not lock us in."
Quincy began to bow but flinched when Picard added a second condition.
"And before we do, we will be permitted thirty minutes to look around," Picard added.
"As you wish, mon seigneur," Quincy said with a deep bow.
"Thank you," Picard replied.
He turned back to the group.
"Let's get at it, shall we?" he said with a rare smile.
Everyone jumped into action.
Worf stood quickly and tossed his blanket to the side. He nodded to Commander Riker who grinned in response. With Deanna in tow, the three set off into the night.
Beverly clapped her hands together as Jean-Luc offered her his hand.
"After you, Miss Mansfield," he said with a wave of his hand.
Jean-Luc looked over to Guinan and arched his eyebrow. She waved him off, she had a hunch they'd appreciate some time alone.
Lwaxana grabbed Reg and hauled him out of the room.
"C'mon," she said. "I know just the place."
Geordi made a beeline for Sonya who was seated next to Keiko.
The two women were mapping out the house.
"C'mon honey," Miles said as he stepped up to the group.
"In a minute, Miles," Keiko said as she scribbled away in her notebook.
"Why don't we start here," Sonya suggested as she pointed to Lord Moran's office.
"Uh, honey," Miles prompted as he checked his pocket watch. "The clock is ticking."
"Why don't you and Geordi explore for a bit," Keiko suggested. "I think Sonya and I want to check out Lord Moran's office."
Geordi and Miles exchanged a glance.
"Are you sure you two gals want to go poking about this house on your own?" Miles asked, concerned.
Keiko dropped her pen as everyone in earshot turned their attention to the Chief.
It was obvious from Keiko's glare that his comment had not been appreciated.
"I-I just meant that erm-" Miles cleared his throat. "I'm sure you two will make a great team."
"Real smooth," Geordi said disapprovingly.
"Why don't you all work together?" Guinan suggested from the corner.
"Fine with me," Sonya said with a grin.
Geordi nodded.
"Besides, somebody better keep an eye on Blackjack," Guinan said before she took a sip from her tumbler. "Make sure he doesn't remove any more doors."
"It was ONE time!" Miles protested as Geordi drug him out of the room laughing.
Data's foot made contact with something on the ground. He picked up a torch that had been discarded in the water. He took this as a clue that Tasha must have come this way.
She had clearly been with another being. He reasoned it must have been holographic character if they were capable of seeing in the dark.
But friend or foe?
Data did not have enough information to determine if they had discarded the torch intentionally or for another reason. They could have been startled by something and dropped it. It was equally as likely that they could have encountered someone or something they needed to hide from.
His mind raced with possibilities.
He trudged through the flooded cellar as he continued to search for Tasha.
Data stopped abruptly.
In the distance, he could hear someone. The sound was faint.
His eyes lit up with excitement and moved in the direction of the noise.
On the other end of the cellar, Tasha beat her fists against the door.
"HELLO?" she called out in despair.
She groaned.
Her hands hurt, bruised from trying make enough noise to escape.
Her repeated calls for help had gone unnoticed – liked due to the noise from the storm above.
Her voice was hoarse.
And she was so cold her extremities had gone numb.
She sat back against the wall and sniffled. This holodeck experience was proving to be miserable.
The idea that finding her might be a part of the mystery settled into the pit of her stomach.
She couldn't stay here for the next few days.
The last thing Tasha wanted to do was ruin Data's birthday.
But things had gone too far.
"Computer, end program," she sadly.
Nothing happened.
"Computer, end program," she repeated, panicked.
Again, there was no change.
The storm continued to blow, and she was still stuck in the icy passage.
Something was terribly wrong with the holodeck.
A flash of lightening hit the grate and she jumped.
She covered her head instinctively as the thunder boomed above her.
After a few seconds, she cautiously looked up.
Tasha smiled.
Wiping her the tears from her face with the palm of her hands she crawled up to the exit and cautiously pushed on the grate.
The lightening had broken it open.
Without hesitation, she pushed it off it's latch and stepped out onto the grass.
It was hard to see much as the rain was falling hard and it was terribly dark.
She didn't know where exactly she was, but she had emerged somewhere on the grounds.
She squinted against the rain as it beat down on her face.
Scanning the horizon, she thought she could make out the outline of a large structure. Wagering it was likely the house, she took off in that direction.
Wesley had gone off on his own. He'd spotted a painting of the recently deceased Lady Moran in the entrance hall when he'd first arrived. Knowing that paintings often held clues about their subjects, he decided it was as good of a place as any to start.
The entrance hall had a high, vaulted ceiling.
The portrait of the late Lady Moran spanned at least two meters tall and a meter wide. She was standing next to a horse and was holding a strange object in her hand. It was cylindrical and appeared to look like globe made of gold.
It was hard to tell in the dark.
The portrait had been painted on the grounds – that was obvious from the landscape. In the background, Wesley could see the small island that was in the centre of the loch and the little white folly that was positioned on it.
He wondered if there was a connection.
A noise from next door snapped him out of his thoughts.
Someone had raised their voice.
Wes crept along the wall as he drew closer. He glanced into the dining room only to discover it was empty.
However, light cascaded into the dining room from the lounge next door. The door was cracked open, and Wesley could hear the butler Quincy was speaking with whom he assumed was Data.
"You're just as bad as the rest of them!" Quincy exclaimed as he slammed his fist on the table.
"How many times must I repeat myself," Lore replied. "She was in his room."
"You were supposed to set the mystery in motion," Quincy retorted. "Spark a little intrigue. Bring a little drama to the party. Not to run off with the heir to the estate."
Wesley's ears perked up. They were talking about Tasha.
He stepped closer to the open door.
"But now you swoop in and kidnap the birthday boy's sweetheart," Quincy snapped. "And I have to fix it before Jean-Luc gets wise."
Wesley's brow furrowed. The holographic butler had just called the captain by his real name.
Holograms weren't capable of that.
Unless he isn't a hologram. Wesley thought.
Something was off.
"You said you wanted a little chaos," Lore replied.
"Yes, but the kind of chaos that's fun and low-stakes," Quincy pouted. "I put a lot of work into this."
"Then fix it," Lore snarled. "Look, you wanted to go through with this plan. When it became obvious they were not in the right places, I improvised."
"Well un-improvise!" Quincy shouted.
A beat passed.
"If Riker hadn't fired that stupid gun, we might have had more time," Quincy groaned. "Look, leave her where she's at for the time being. Once they're all back in their beds then well move her to the test. And be sure there are no mistakes this time."
"I only agreed to this because you promised I would get the chance to toy around with my baby brother," Lore warned.
Wesley gasped aloud.
"What was that?" Quincy asked.
Wesley realised they had heard him.
He looked around for somewhere to escape.
"Check the dining room, I'll look in the library," Quincy ordered.
With only a moment to decide, Wesley slipped into the bottom cupboard that ran along the wall and shut the door behind him.
He took several slow, quiet breaths.
That wasn't Data. It was Lore.
After everyone had gone, Guinan remained in her seat in the library as she casually sipped her whiskey.
She didn't flinch when the doors from the lounge flew open and Quincy swept into the room.
"Looking for someone?" Guinan asked.
"What are you still doing here?" Quincy demanded.
"Exploring," Guinan replied calmly.
She got up and wandered over to the large window that overlooked the grounds.
"Observing," she added.
"This room holds no clues," Quincy said quickly.
"See, I think you're wrong there," Guinan replied, unphased by his statement.
Quincy rolled his eyes. She was insufferable.
"I'm not wrong because I'm omnipotent," he snapped in response.
"If you're so omnipotent you care to tell me why Miss Moran is running across the grass like she's fleeing from something?" Guinan said. "You said she was safe."
"Nice try," Quincy laughed.
"See for yourself," Guinan said as she motioned for him to join her at the window.
Sure enough, it was Tasha on the horizon. She was drenched and racing along the grass toward the house.
"Impossible," Quincy said darkly.
"That sure doesn't look like 'safe'," Guinan said.
"I hardly think I asked for your commentary," Quincy hissed.
He straightened himself up and adjusted his jacket.
"You should go join your friends," Quincy suggested. "Elsewhere."
Guinan sauntered back to her chair and sat down leisurely.
"I think I'll stay right here," Guinan smiled. "Seems to be the centre of the action."
Quincy turned up his nose like he'd smelled something unpleasant before scurrying out of the room.
"Come out, come out wherever you are," Lore said menacingly as he slipped into the dining room.
Wesley tried to keep himself as still as possible. He knew Lore's hearing was far superior to human ears. He knew he had to stay hidden so he could warn the others.
"I know you're in here," Lore teased as he looked under the table.
He moved quietly over to the drapes and swept the aside.
To his disappointment, there was no one there.
"And I know it's you, young Wesley," Lore said as he checked the second set of drapes. "Always snooping. Poking your nose where it doesn't belong."
Wesley clamped his hand over his mouth as he heard Lore open the first set of cabinet doors.
"The petulant little man child," Lore laughed. "Trapped like rat in a cage."
Lore's hand fell on the knob to the cabinet that Wesley was hiding in.
The door started to creek open.
"We have a problem," Quincy said as suddenly entered the dining room. "She's escaped."
"What do you expect me to do about it?" Lore murmured, annoyed.
"Fix it," Quincy ordered.
A beat passed.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Quincy snapped as he waved his hands.
Begrudgingly, Lore shut the door to the cupboard and Wesley felt a wave of relief.
As soon as he was sure Lore was gone, Wesley allowed himself a deep breath.
He opened to door and found himself face to face with the butler.
"Goodnight," he said with a familiar grin.
Quincy snapped his fingers and Wesley fell asleep. He pushed him back into the cupboard and closed the door.
"That's one problem down," he said as he brushed his hands off and headed off into the night.
Down in the cellar, it sounded like whoever had been calling out had ceased. Data hoped this didn't mean they were in danger.
He trudged along through the various winding passages of the cellar. It was like a maze. There were more than a few dead ends and Data surmised that his human companions could easily get lost in the space.
Eventually, he found a doorway. It was locked, but that wasn't about to stop him.
He easily broke through the door and discovered a small stone staircase that led to the grounds above.
Data carefully examined the metallic grate that had covered the entrance and deduced that someone had managed to escape.
He stepped out onto the grounds and looked around. The ground was soaked and thus there were footprints in the mud around the entrance, but the trail was lost in the grass.
Someone had been here.
He determined a search pattern and set off in the direction of his first target.
Tasha hated running barefoot. It was hard to keep her grip on the slippery grass.
She could see the house ahead of her.
She was about twenty metres away when she lost her footing and tripped.
Tasha rolled onto her back and stayed there for a moment as she caught her breath.
After a minute or so she got up slowly and stretched for a second.
She wasn't sure exactly how far she had run but the muscles in her legs were involuntarily twitching.
She put her hands on top of her head and walked slowly toward the house.
After a few metres she hit a particularly slick patch of grass and slipped again.
Something gripped her hand and she looked up.
Tasha couldn't see much in the dark, but she could see a familiar pair of yellow eyes.
He pulled her to her feet.
"What are you playing at?" she said angrily as she pushed him away.
She threw her hands out as the rain pummelled down on them.
"I'm freezing," she shouted. "I can't feel my hands or my feet!"
He didn't respond.
"I'm only wearing a shirt. I don't even have shoes," she said as she raised her left foot and wiggled her toes. "And that's rough back there, I'll have you know."
She pointed back to the woods she had come through.
Tasha turned back to him and sniffled, wiping her nose with the sleeve of his shirt.
"I'm tired. I'm cold. And I want to go-" she didn't get a chance to finish her rant.
In one swift motion he stepped forward and pulled her into a kiss.
Tasha couldn't put her finger on it, but something about it was off.
After a moment he pulled away and studied her face.
"Curious," he said simply.
By the time they had reached Tasha's quarters, her hands and feet were tingling with pain as the feeling began to return to her extremities.
"Data, I think there's something wrong with the holodeck," she said through chattering teeth.
He did not respond.
Shivering, she decided perhaps a hot bath would be the best way to warm up.
Tasha picked up her dressing gown and grabbed a flannel from the wardrobe.
She was about to press the issue of the holodeck malfunction when she noticed Data's jacket on her bed.
Tasha glanced back over her shoulder. The man she assumed was Data was walking around the room, casually picking up knickknacks and examining them as if it were the first time he had been in the space.
She turned her gaze back to the jacket and then back to the man in her quarters.
Tasha set down her dressing gown and picked up the jacket from the bed. She recognised the red handkerchief he had worn at dinner.
The man in her room was wearing a yellow handkerchief in his pocket.
Suddenly, she felt nauseous.
"Data?" she asked hesitantly. "Why are you wearing a jacket if your jacket is on the bed?"
Something was pressed against her face. Reflexively, she inhaled.
It smelled like ether, but with a hint of sweetness.
She slumped to the floor.
"It's about time," Lore snapped.
"Your little stunt meant I couldn't get away without arousing suspicion," Quincy replied.
"You're welcome," Lore replied in a biting tone.
"Your work is sloppy," Quincy replied. "I'm tired of cleaning up your messes."
Lore glared.
"You're a butler," he sneered.
Lore poked at Tasha with his foot.
"You didn't kill her? Was that poison?" he inquired.
"Kill dear Tasha?" Quincy asked.
He looked scandalised by the accusation.
"Never," Quincy explained. "Just a long slumber. Think of it as a penalty box my friend."
Lore picked up the rag and carefully sniffed it.
"Chloroform?" he queried.
"Actually no," Quincy explained. "My powers. But I thought this would provide a fun little clue. An extra touch. You know, the kind of historical accuracy that Jean-Luc craves."
"What's your deal with Picard?" Lore asked with a snicker. "For someone who claims to find humans pitiful beings you sure seem fixated on them."
"Sticks and stones, my android friend," Quincy replied in earnest. "You claim to detest organic lifeforms. You mock your brother's desire to become human. And yet you agreed to this for the soul intention of toying with them?"
Lore was silent.
"I think that you and I share a mutual feeling," Quincy went on. "They're an amusing bunch. Actors. Toys. Puppets. And we both take pleasure pulling the strings."
Lore picked Tasha off the floor.
"Now, put her back where you found her," Quincy inquired. "I need to make sure our other guests find their way back to their beds."
"And what about the precious Inspector?" Lore demanded.
"One problem at a time," Quincy said.
Lore carried Tasha up the steps to Data's quarters and put her on the bed.
He stepped over the writing desk in the corner and penned a note to his brother.
Unconsciously, she shivered.
Fragile humans. Lore thought to himself as he rolled his eyes.
He threw another log onto the fire to warm the room.
Lore considered pulling the blankets back to tuck her in, but truth be told he didn't know if that would be too warm for a human.
He had no frame of reference, nor did he much care.
Spying the trench coat his brother had worn earlier, Lore decided to compromise and threw it over her.
Lore stepped into the library and looked around for the butler.
"Inspector?" Guinan said as she stepped out from the darkness.
Lore cleared his throat and turned around.
She eyed his wet clothing and hair. It was obvious he had been out in the rain.
"Is Miss Moran alright?" Guinan asked.
She knew this was supposed to be a party, but Tasha had looked genuinely upset.
"She is resting," Lore said.
Guinan nodded in understanding.
"I could stop by later and check on her if you have important Inspector duties," Guinan suggested warmly.
"That will not be necessary," Lore said quickly.
"You're allotted time is now up," Quincy announced to the house. "Please return to the library."
Lore took a seat in the corner of the room, as far from Guinan as possible.
He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about her that made him feel uneasy.
The rest of the crew made their way back to the library.
It was nearly 01:00 and they were expected to be at a shooting party in just a few hours.
However, it seemed everyone was too excited to sleep.
"Now, you've all had your fun," Quincy said. "And now it is time to honour your agreement and return to your beds."
He clapped his hands together.
"Well, off with you," he said as he shooed them.
"Goodnight," Lore stated as he quickly stepped out of the room.
"Where's my son?" Beverly asked.
It wasn't just Tasha that was absent anymore – Wesley was conspicuously absent.
"He's sleeping," Quincy informed her.
"That doesn't sound like Wes," Beverly countered.
"He said he was feeling quiet tired," Quincy explained.
"I'm just going to check on him before I go to my own room if you don't mind," Beverly stated defiantly.
Call it mother's intuition, she knew something was wrong.
"That will not be necessary," Quincy assured her. "As I said he is sleeping."
"I think you're lying," Beverly said boldly.
"I don't think he is," Guinan said.
She hadn't moved or said much since the group had returned.
Rather she had been focused on the grandfather clock that stood against he wall.
Quincy followed her line of sight and chuckled.
"Of course, you would be the first one to spot the clock," Quincy said with a grin.
All eyes turned to the large, antique clock as they studied the face and its brass hands.
There were sixteen hands, each bearing the name of one of their characters.
Rather than displaying time, it appeared to show where each of them was at. It displayed a mix of locations like 'library', 'lounge', 'cellar', and 'grounds.' It also displayed a series other places that were more abstract including 'sleeping', 'lost', and 'danger.'
"And now you understand," Quincy said. "I am omnipotent."
Indeed, the hand for Wesley's character Wyatt Roderick IV was set to 'sleeping.'
"My, my," Picard said as he approached the device. "This is fascinating."
"And you can examine it in the morning," Quincy said as he pushed them to the door.
Once they were all out, he locked the door behind him and slumped down against he door.
"Nice little clock," Guinan said.
Quincy groaned.
"Why must you always cause trouble?" he said looked over to her.
"Trouble? This is a mystery, is it not?" she inquired as she leaned forward in her chair.
"What do you want from me?" he said desperately.
"I want to know why Inspector Fury's hand is set to 'the grounds'," Guinan explained. "And why it was still set to 'the grounds' when he was sitting over there."
Data's internal chronometer informed him it was 03:00 hours. He had been searching for Tasha for nearly three hours and had come up empty-handed. He decided it might be time for him to check her quarters again.
Her door was unlocked, but she was not present.
Scanning the room, he spotted a small handkerchief on the floor. Picking it up he detected a faint odour. Data accessed his internal information bank and identified the chemical composition.
"Chloroform," he said aloud in astonishment.
It meant something had occurred in this room after he'd left.
However, there was no indication of whether the victim had been Tasha or another one of his companions. He reasoned it was also possible that Tasha had been the perpetrator.
She may not be present, as she could be covering her crime.
Data decided he would put on a fresh suit and return to wait.
If she were the perpetrator, she would likely return at some point to clean up the scene. Data pocketed the handkerchief and headed up to this quarters.
Although the elements didn't bother him, he knew that his human companions would appreciate a fresh change of clothing. The scent of wet clothing was an unpleasant aroma.
When he stepped into his own quarters, he made a beeline for the wardrobe. He stripped off his wet clothing and placed them in a basket that was designated for laundering.
Suddenly, his olfactory receptors picked up on the smell of something else wet.
He turned to see his coat laid out on the bed and someone – or something – was underneath it.
Tentatively, he picked up the coat and let out an audible artificial breath when he saw it was Tasha.
He placed the back of his hand on her forehead. Her skin was cold, not unreasonably so, but enough that it was concerning.
"Tasha?" he asked as he delicately tried to nudge her awake.
She didn't respond.
Thinking back to what he had found in his room, he reasoned it was likely the result of a drug-induced sleep.
Data got up and locked the door. He searched is quarters to ensure there was no one else present.
If Tasha had been the intended victim, he wanted to be sure there was no one else hanging about.
What he didn't understand, is if she were the intended victim, why had she been left in his quarters?
He considered the possibility that she had, instead, simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She might have witnessed, or nearly witnessed something important.
His eyes fell on the writing desk where there was envelope addressed to 'Inspector Fury.'
Data ripped open the letter and read the contents.
Inspector Fury,
Happy birthday dear brother.
My gift to you – she is unharmed.
Sincerely,
Professor Mith
Data cocked his head to the side as pondered the note.
His character card had not specified that Professor Mith was his brother.
However, it would stand to reason that brothers could be rivals.
It certainly fell into dramatic and storytelling tradition.
What he had yet to determine, was if Professor Mith was a holographic character or a guest leaving clues.
He stepped into his lavvy and ran the tap, testing the water to ensure it was a sufficient temperature.
Twenty minutes later he curled up behind her in bed. He'd washed her hair and wiped the dirt and grass from her feet.
He considered running down to grab her bag but decided against it. It didn't feel right to leave her alone.
Instead, he'd opted to use his own pyjama shirt.
He'd found clean linens in his wardrobe and stripped and replaced them – rolling her from side to side had been more work that he'd initially anticipated.
In the morning, she could fill him on what had transpired.
But for the moment, Data was content she was safe and snug.
As the firelight dimmed, he slowed his processing and engaged his sleep programme.