Happy Birthday To You, From Q

  Happy Birthday To You, From Q

for Randy Orenstein's Eleventh Birthday

from Dad

1994 Ronald Orenstein

"Jean-Luc does not like to be reminded of his birthday," said

Beverley.  "It makes him very uncomfortable.  You ought to be able

to sense that better than any of us."

"I know," said Deanna, leaning back with a sigh against the couch in

Dr. Crusher's quarters.  "I'm thinking more of the crew, actually.

We've been out here running this stellar survey for weeks now.

Other than Data, and the technical people who are doing the work,

everyone is bored stiff.  I think a surprise party for the Captain would

be just the thing to liven us up."

"Well, don't expect it to liven Jean-Luc up.  Maybe we ought to tell

him about it in advance.  He'll go along and act surprised if he thinks

it's for the crew's morale."

Deanna thought about that for a moment.  "Well.." she ventured,

finally, unsure how to react.  "We've got a day to think about it.

Anyway, the Captain shouldn't be so upset about birthdays.  They're

important rites of passage.  Talk about it later?"

"Sure," said Beverley, smiling.  "I'll see you in Ten-Forward after my

next watch.  We can decide then."

"Okay," Deanna agreed.  She eased off the couch and headed for

the door, turning back at the last minute.  "But don't you think it

would be fun?"

"I guess so," said Beverley with a smile.  Deanna grinned back at

her, and left.

As Beverley shook her head at the idea of Jean-Luc Picard enjoying

a surprise birthday party, an almost blinding flash of light glanced at

the corner of her eye.  She turned, startled, to see a man in a

Starfleet uniform lounging casually on the couch where Deanna had

been.

"Honestly, the ideas you humanoids come up with," said the man.

"Rites of passage, indeed.  As if the day you were born mattered one

whit after the fact."

"Q," spat Beverley with disgust.

"Now, the day you die, that does mean something," Q continued,

ignoring her.  "But you can hardly celebrate that, can you?  A bit too

late, wouldn't you say?"

"What are you doing here?"

"What sort of a welcome is that, Doctor?  My favourite crew bored

beyond belief, my dear friend Jean-Luc in desperate need of a

surprise for his birthday, and here I am.  This is  an errand of mercy.

You ought to be delighted to see me."

"Well, I'm not," Beverley snapped, "and I'd appreciate it if you would

leave my quarters."°

"But we have so many things to plan, Doctor," Q protested,

spreading his hands in mock amazement.  "The presents, the

decorations, the little party hats with elastic under the chin - what

colour do you think Jean-Luc would like his to be?"

Beverley tapped her communicator.  "Doctor Crusher to security.

Come to my quarters at once."

"Beverley, Beverley," sighed Q.  "This is supposed to be a surprise,

remember?  Anyway, your communicator isn't working.  And what

would your precious security guards do to me, anyway?"

"All right, Q," said Beverley.  "What do you want?"

"Me?  I don't want anything.  I'm here to help you.  I want to give

Jean-Luc a really wonderful birthday present.  What would he like?"

"I'm sure Captain Picard doesn't want anything from you."

"Well, he's going to get something, whether he likes it or not," said

Q, his smile gone.  "In fact, I know exactly what to get him.

Something he desperately needs."

"And what is that," said Beverley, her lips tightening."

"Why, a lesson in humility, of course.  He's so arrogant, my dear.

So are you, by the  way.  You'd make a lovely couple.  Heaven

knows I've tried, but it seems even this whole infinite universe isn't

enough to make you humble.  So, I've decided to try another

universe."

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you know," said Q, chuckling again, "that there are alternate

realities where you don't even exist?  Where you're just a figment of

someone else's imagination?  Light entertainment for the

amusement of children and people who like to dress up in funny

suits?"

"We've dealt with alternate realities before, Q," said Beverley.

"But not like this, have you?  Oh, I'm sure you can imagine such

places.  But experiencing them - well, that's another matter.  You

should see your audience - the people you exist to amuse.  That

would put you in your place, wouldn't it?"

"I don't see why."

Q thought for a moment.  "Well, perhaps not.  Still, it's too late now,

isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see," said Q.  "Beverley, it's been a joy as usual, but.."  He

snapped his fingers and vanished.

At moment later Beverley's communicator came to life.  "Doctor, are

you all right?"  It was Worf's voice.  "We've been unable to reach

your quarters."

"I'm fine, Worf," said Beverley, shaken.  "I'm coming to the bridge.  I

must see the Captain immediately."

******************************************************

Randy blinked hard with astonishment.  A moment before, he had

been pumping furiously away at the controls of a video game, the

noise of the other machines at Video Invasions hammering at his

ears, surrounded by the boys who had come to his birthday party.

Now, he was leaning against the console of a computer terminal in

an empty chamber that looked something like a school classroom,

filled with desks and toys, with the only sound a faint vibrating hum.

Was he dreaming?  Had he passed out?  What was going on?

"Hi," came a boy's voice from behind him.  "You're early this

morning."

Randy jumped at the sound, then turned, breathing heavily.  The boy

in front of him had an enormously swollen, wrinkled forehead,

crowned by a mane of thick black hair.

"Who are you?" said the other boy.  "Are you new here?  I thought

you were somebody else."

"What the heck is going on here?" demanded Randy.  "What

happened to my party? And why are you dressed up as a Klingon?"

"I'm not dressed up as a Klingon," said the boy indignantly.  "I am a

Klingon.  My name is Alexander Rodschenko."

"Yeah, right," Randy snorted.  "And I'm Jean-Luc Picard."

"No, you're not," said  Alexander matter-of-factly.  "Captain Picard

didn't look anything like you when he was young. I saw him that way

once."

Randy could only stare at him.  Then he stepped forward, put out a

hand and felt the lumps on Alexander's forehead.  To his

astonishment they were warm.  He could feel them pulsing under his

hand before Alexander shook him off.

"What are you doing?" said Alexander.  "Haven't you ever seen a

Klingon before?"

Randy suddenly began to feel very frightened.  "Not a real one,"  he

said quietly.  "You're really Alexander, aren't you?  I mean, this

really is the Enterprise, isn't it?"

"Of course it's the Enterprise," said Alexander, puzzled.  "What do

you mean. really Alexander?  Have you heard of me?  Who are you,

anyway?"

But Randy couldn't answer.   All he could say was, "What am I doing

here?"

*********************************

"I want the entire ship put on Yellow Alert," said Captain Picard to

his officers, hastily assembled in the briefing room.  "Beverley, Q

said something about an "audience" of some kind?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Mr. Worf, it is possible that we may have an intruder on board.  I

want a complete scan of all decks, effective immediately."

"Aye aye, Captain," said Worf.

"Mr. Worf, we don't even know if this "audience" is humanoid,"

added Commander Riker.  "I suggest that we broaden the scan to

look for unusual energy patterns as well as intruders."

"Make it so," Picard agreed.  Worf turned and strode from the room.

"Captain," said Deanna, "If there is an intruder Q may have brought

him, or her, here without their permission.  The intruder may be

feeling lost, or frightened.  We have no reason to suppose that it is

hostile."

"Agreed," said Picard.  "But we must take all precautions.  Geordi, I

want security seals on key engineering functions until we find out

what is going on here."

"I'll get right on it," replied Geordi, as Picard, them the others, rose

to go.

Commander Data, who had seemed lost in thought throughout the

briefing, looked up.  "Captain?"

"Yes, Data?"

"May we assume that Q's visit will make it impossible for your

birthday party to be a surprise?"

"Well, obviously, Data," said Troi.

"That may be so.  But Q may nonetheless be planning a surprise of

his own."

"Not if I can help it," said Picard grimly.

"I remind you, however, that your birthday is tomorrow, Captain."

"Thank you, Mr. Data," said Picard.  "I'll be on my guard."

"Captain, we have located the intruder."  Worf's voice sounded over

the intercom.  "It is apparently a human male.  He is on deck twelve,

level three, in one of the schoolrooms."

"Very good, Mr. Worf," said Picard. "Send a security detail at once.

Are there any children in the room?"

"Sir, it would appear that Alexander is with the intruder."

"Then you had best accompany the security detail yourself, Mr.

Worf.  But assume that the intruder is harmless unless you have

evidence to the contrary."

"Understood.  Thank you, Captain.  I will go at once."

*************************************************

"A television show?" said Alexander.

Randy was about to reply when Worf, followed by two security

officers, burst into the room.  Randy backed into the computer

console in a panic as Worf levelled a phaser at his chest.

"I advise you not to move," Worf barked.  "Alexander, are you all

right?"

"Father, what are you doing?" asked Alexander, looking at Randy

curiously.  "He's not dangerous, is he?"

"I'm not!  I'm not!"  Randy said quickly.

"Then you can have no objection to holding still until I report," said

Worf, tapping his communicator.  "The intruder has been secured,

Captain.  He appears to be a human boy, aged about ten."

"I'm eleven now," Randy protested.  "I just had my birthday."

Worf gave Randy a puzzled look.  "Perhaps the Doctor should come

here," he said to no one in particular.  "It may be advisable to

subject him to a closer scan, to determine if he really is human."

"What else would I be?" Randy asked.

"Very good, Mr. Worf," answered a voice that Randy recognized,

with a thrill, as Captain Picard's.  "Dr. Crusher, report to the security

detail."

"On my way, Captain."  That was Beverley Crusher's voice, thought

Randy.  This is really happening.

"You will wait there," said Worf, lowering his phaser.

"Sure, Worf," said Randy without thinking.  At once Worf was on the

alert again.

"How did you know my name?"  he demanded.

"Well.. but... I just do, that's all," Randy stammered.  "You know,

from Star Trek."

"What," asked Worf, "is Star Trek?"

"Father," said Alexander, "Randy comes from the twentieth century

on earth.  But it must be a different earth, because he told me that

where he comes from there is a television show about us, and we're

all in it."

"I do not believe him," said Worf.  "This is obviously Q's doing.  For

all I know he could be a Q."

"So that's how I got here," exclaimed Randy in a burst of

understanding.  "Q brought me!  I mean, the real Q."

"You see?" said Worf suspiciously to Alexander.  "He admits to a

knowledge of Q."

"Of course I do, for Pete's sake," Randy argued.  "Q's on Star Trek

too."

That stopped Worf for a moment.  "I do not understand," he said

finally.

"All right, Worf, you can put the phaser down now."  Randy turned to

his left, to see Beverley Crusher standing next to him, scanning him

with a tricorder.  "He's perfectly human."

"I told you so," said Randy to Worf.  "Hi, Dr. Crusher.  I'm Randy

Orenstein."

"Well, I'm pleased to meet you, Randy Orenstein," said Beverley

with a smile.  "Welcome to the Enterprise."

--

Ronald I. Orenstein                           Phone: (905) 820-7886 (home)

International Wildlife Coalition              Fax/Modem: (905) 569-0116 (home)

Home: 1825 Shady Creek Court                  Messages: (416) 368-4661

Mississauga, Ontario, Canada L5L 3W2          Internet: ornstn@hookup.net

Office: 130 Adelaide Street W., Suite 1940    Compuserve ID: 72037,2513

Toronto, Ontario Canada M5H 3P5             

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From: ornstn@hookup.net (Ronald Orenstein)

Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative

Subject: A Star Trek birthday story: 2/3

Date: 8 Oct 1994 21:38:59 GMT

Organization: International Wildlife Coalition

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Happy Birthday to You, from Q, Part 2!

"You had no idea this was going to happen?  None at all?"

"No, sir."  Randy, perched on a bench in sickbay, was feeling

extremely nervous.  Watching Star Trek at home was one thing, but

this was Jean-Luc Picard, the real Jean-Luc Picard, a man whom he

knew was uncomfortable with children, grilling him in earnest.  "I told

you.  I was playing Mortal Kombat II at my birthday party..."

"Captain, that is hardly a child's game, even on the Klingon home

world," interrupted Worf.  "Are you sure he is from earth, as he

says?"

"Just a moment, Captain," said Data, twitching his head

mechanically.  "Accessing.  Mortal Kombat II.  An inexplicably

popular and very violent video game played by pre- adolescent

males, late twentieth-century earth.  Apparently it existed in our

reality too, sir."

"I'm sure he is telling the truth, Worf," added Deanna soothingly.  "I

can sense it.  You're very excited about all this, aren't you, Randy?"

"Are you kidding?" said Randy.  "Who wouldn't be?"

"Yes, yes," said Captain Picard irritably, "this is all very well, but I

can hardly believe that Q would go to all this trouble just to give a

boy a good time.  And I can't imagine that even Q would think that

confronting us with someone from a reality where we were all

fictional characters would amount to a - what did he say, Doctor?  A

lesson in humility?  Surely the possibility that such realities exist is

hardly a surprise."

"Then why is he here?" demanded Commander Riker.

"I haven't the faintest idea, Number One.  And what is more," he

added, jerking his finger at Randy, "neither has he."

"May I suggest, Captain, that whatever Q's purpose it will become

clear tomorrow, on your birthday."

"Agreed, Mr. Data.  But what are we to do with him in the

meantime?"

Now or never, thought Randy.  "Can I go to the bridge?"

"The bridge is off limits for children," said Riker.  "Even for children

from alternate realities who've seen it hundreds of times on

television."

"There's a thought," said Captain Picard suddenly.  "Randy, have

you ever seen an episode of your television program - what did you

call it?  Star Trek? - that was anything like what is happening to you

now?"

Randy thought for a moment.  "No, sir," he said finally.

"Nonetheless, I think we should inform Randy if anything unusual

happens. It may be that we are about to enter a situation that will

parallel one of his episodes.  He may be able to give us some useful

information."

"Captain, that hardly seems likely," said Riker.

"Nonetheless, see it done.  Issue him a communicator badge.

Though I doubt that anything is likely to happen in this corner of the

quadrant.  We're nowhere near the neutral zone, for one thing."

"We still have to decide what to do about Randy," said Deanna.  "He

is our guest, after all, no matter how he got here."  She flashed

Randy a friendly smile.

"He should not be left alone," said Worf, still suspicious.

"Agreed," said Picard.  "He seems to have struck up an

acquaintance with your son Alexander, Mr. Worf.  Perhaps he would

like to share your quarters?"

Worf's eyes widened.  "If you insist, Captain," he said stiffly.

"Do you know, Mr. Worf," said Picard with an amused grin, "I believe

I do.  Randy, you are in Lieutenant Worf's charge.  If you know us as

well as you say you do, then you will know that he tolerates very little

nonsense."

"Yes, sir," said Randy.

"And remember something," Picard went on.  "You may think you

know the Enterprise, but all you really know is a fictional version of

it.  The real thing may not be quite as you expect it, so be careful."

"I will, sir."

"Very good.  Carry on, Mr. Worf.  The rest of us can return to our

survey duties until we see what Q has in mind."  Captain Picard

turned and strode quickly out of sickbay, followed by Commander

Riker and Data.  Deanna followed, but first put a hand on Randy's

knee and whispered, "Have fun."

"Well, Worf, can I have my sickbay back now?" asked Beverley,

also smiling at Randy.

"Very good, Doctor.  Come," Worf said to Randy.  "I will show you to

your quarters.  I must insist that you remain there unless I or

Alexander accompanies you."

Randy felt much better, and bolder, at the words "or Alexander".

Perhaps he would have some fun here after all.

"Okay, Worf, I'm coming," he agreed.  "But, Worf.."

"Yes, Randy?"

"Will you show me how to use a bat-leth?"

Worf studied him for a moment.  "It is possible."

**************************************************

Randy lay back on his narrow bunk opposite Alexander's.  His arms

and shoulders ached, and his wrists still tingled.  He turned on his

side, groaning as his muscles complained bitterly.

"I warned you," said Alexander.  "Father forgets how strong he is.

You should not have spent a whole hour."

"Tell me about it," said Randy.  After a boring afternoon in his

quarters, Worf had appeared again to take him to the gym.  There

he had, as promised, given Randy a bat-leth lesson.  Worf had tried

to be as gentle as possible, but if Randy had learned anything, it was

that manipulating the great, curved, two-handed blade was a lot

harder than it looked on TV.  What's more, the shock of Worf's bat-

leth striking his own had sent shooting spasms up his arms and

across his shoulders.  As Worf had told him afterwards, being a real

warrior was a very different thing from playing a game.  Randy was

not at all eager to try it again.

"What would you like to do tomorrow?" asked Alexander.

"What I'd really like to do," said Randy, "is to see the bridge, and the

main engineering room, and all the other places I'm not allowed to

go.  What do you do for fun around here anyway?"

"Sometimes, not much," admitted Alexander.  What about you?

What sort of games do you like to play?"

"Well, I love Dungeons and Dragons," said Randy.  "But I bet you

don't even know what that is."

"I don't," admitted Alexander.

"It's a role-playing game," Randy explained.  "You pretend to be a

hero on a quest, fighting off monsters and things."

"That sounds like fun," said Alexander.  "Can you teach it to me?"

"You can't do it without special dice," said Randy, "and rule books..."

But Alexander was off the bed with excitement.  "Maybe not, Randy!

Just a minute.  Computer!  Do you know anything about Dungeons

and Dragons?"

A woman's voice, faintly mechanical, answered from nowhere.  "The

Enterprise library carries historical articles about the game.  It was

popular in the late twentieth century, and.."

"No, no," interrupted Alexander.  "I mean, can you help us play it?"

"There is a Dungeons and Dragons program available on the

holodeck," answered the computer.  "You may have access to

Holodeck Three at 0900 hours tomorrow morning."

"Awesome," said Randy.  "What is the quest?"

"You are to search for the Black Pool", said the computer.

"That doesn't sound right," said Randy.  "You're sure it isn't for the

Dragon Lance, or something like that?"

"The program allows for dragons," said the computer, "but you are to

search for the Black Pool.  No other quest is possible."

"Okay, okay, the Black Pool," said Randy.  "Thanks, Alexander."

"You're welcome.  Goodnight, Randy."

"Goodnight."  This will be wild, Randy thought.  Dungeons and

Dragons on a holodeck of the Enterprise?  Who could have

imagined such a thing?

But just as he drifted off to sleep, he seemed to hear a voice,

somewhere in his mind, whisper "I could."

*************************************************

--

Ronald I. Orenstein                           Phone: (905) 820-7886 (home)

International Wildlife Coalition              Fax/Modem: (905) 569-0116 (home)

Home: 1825 Shady Creek Court                  Messages: (416) 368-4661

Mississauga, Ontario, Canada L5L 3W2          Internet: ornstn@hookup.net

Office: 130 Adelaide Street W., Suite 1940    Compuserve ID: 72037,2513

Toronto, Ontario Canada M5H 3P5             

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From: ornstn@hookup.net (Ronald Orenstein)

Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative

Subject: A Star Trek birthday story: 3/3 (or 4!)

Date: 8 Oct 1994 21:44:43 GMT

Organization: International Wildlife Coalition

Lines: 135

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Happy Birthday to You, from Q, part 3 (NOT the last one!)

"Program complete," said the computer.  "Enter when ready."

The holodeck doors swung open with a whoosh.  Inside, Randy

could see little but churning grey fog, hiding dim, menacing shapes

in the distance.

"Cool," he whispered.  "Come on, Alexander."

Randy and Alexander stepped into the holodeck as the doors slid

shut behind them.  Now there was no sign of the Enterprise - only a

misty, gothic landscape, and a cold, damp wind sighing around

them.  They found themselves standing on an uneven, cobbled path

stretching outwards, and upwards, into the distance.°

"Now what?" asked Alexander.

"Follow me," said Randy, heading up the path.  The two boys

pressed onward into the fog.  As they climbed, the wind swirled more

strongly around them.  Gusts carried the strands of fog back and

forth across their faces, occasionally clearing them away enough to

reveal bare, gnarled branches clawing at the sky around them and,

in the distance above them, the looming bulk of a great keep.

Another few yards, and a low stone marker appeared out of the fog

at the path's edge.  Randy stooped quickly to rub at the slimy

coating of moss hiding the marker's inscription.  It began to come

away, revealing worn, archaic letters.

"What does it say?" asked Alexander eagerly.

"Just a second," said Randy, rubbing vigorously.  In another moment

the legend on the marker was clear.  It read:

To

The Castle

of

The Winds

"Wow," said Randy.  "Is this neat, or what?"

"Do you think we are supposed to go there?"

"Are you kidding?  Of course we are," said Randy.  "Come on!"

He started to run up the path, almost tripping over the loose cobbles.

Alexander's footsteps sounded behind him as he ran.   Now the

castle appeared more clearly through the fog.  Though still a long

way off, Randy could see the crenellated turrets jutting from its four

corners, and a tower in its heart crowned by a coal-black flag.  In

another moment, the path reached the crest of a rise, and the boys

saw that the castle clung to a promontory, separated from them by a

deep valley.

"Oh, great," Randy panted.  "How are we going to get over there?"

Alexander looked around for the path, which seemed to have

petered out in front of them.

"What's that?" he asked suddenly, pointing.

Randy followed his finger.  Just below them rose the tall stump of a

great tree, riven to its heart by bolts of lightning.  Within it,

something glowed with a golden light that shone through the cracks

in its bark.

"We'd better find out," said Randy.  He clambered down to a rock

opposite the stump, but could not reach it.°

"Hold my hand, Alexander.  I want to try to reach in there."

Alexander scrambled down to a rock jutting out from the slope and

offered Randy his hand.  Clutching him, Randy leant out till his hand

brushed the stump.

"Just a little further.."  Randy stretched out as far as he dared,

groping with his hand into the interior of the stump, until his hand

closed on something cool and smooth.

"Got it!" he gasped, triumphantly.  Alexander pulled him back.  With

him came a golden staff almost a meter long, ending in the carved

head of a dragon, its eyes glowing rubies.

"Look at this!"  Randy held the staff out excitedly to Alexander.  "I'll

bet it has some sort of mega-powers."

"I guess," said Alexander dubiously.  "What are we supposed to do

with it?"

Randy thought for a moment.  "I don't know," he said at last.  "Let

me try something."

He held the staff over his head, and called out as loudly as he could,

"By the magic in this dragon staff, I call on the mighty powers to aid

me in my quest!"  Then, turning to the startled Alexander, he added

in a normal voice, "That sometimes works."

"Well," said Alexander, "if you say so.  It's your game, not mine."

"Yeah, but something ought to happen.  I mean, if this is a decent

program."

Alexander was about to answer, but was interrupted by a shrieking

sound, seemingly from far above them.  "See?" said Randy.

"Look!" Alexander shouted.  Randy looked up in time to see an

immense golden dragon, its eyes as red as the rubies in the staff,

swoop down towards them out of the mist on stiff, bat-like wings.  He

had barely enough time to say, "Awesome graphics!" before the

dragon swept him up in its claws and hoisted him into the sky.

Below him, Alexander yelled, "Is that supposed to happen?"

"I don't know," Randy shouted in reply as Alexander receded below

him.  Alexander decided to take no chances.

"Computer," he called, "freeze program!"

Now that, Randy knew, should have stopped the dragon dead in its

tracks.  It didn't.

"Computer!" bellowed Alexander as loudly as he could, his voice

sounding faintly in the distance, "End program!  Computer..."

But the dragon, oblivious, sailed on over the valley, bearing in its

claws a boy who was now, for the first time, really frightened.

*****************************************************

--

Ronald I. Orenstein                           Phone: (905) 820-7886 (home)

International Wildlife Coalition              Fax/Modem: (905) 569-0116 (home)

Home: 1825 Shady Creek Court                  Messages: (416) 368-4661

Mississauga, Ontario, Canada L5L 3W2          Internet: ornstn@hookup.net

Office: 130 Adelaide Street W., Suite 1940    Compuserve ID: 72037,2513

Toronto, Ontario Canada M5H 3P5             

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From: ornstn@hookup.net (Ronald Orenstein)

Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative

Subject: A Star Trek birthday story: 4/5 (yes, I know...)

Date: 8 Oct 1994 21:53:54 GMT

Organization: International Wildlife Coalition

Lines: 168

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Happy Birthday to You, from Q, part 4 (My computer dislikes long

postings!  Part 5 should end this)

The dragon, its eyes blazing, perched on the lip of the high tower in

the heart of the castle.  Below it, on a broad parapet, Randy lay on

the cold stones, clutching the staff to his chest, breathing hard.°

"Nicely done," said a voice beside him.

Startled, Randy sat up.  Standing over him was a man in a coal-

black cloak, a deeply-cowled hood hiding his face.

"You have achieved the first stage of your quest."  The voice

sounded vaguely familiar.  "Something like catching a bus, actually.

Are you ready to go on?"

"Yes!" said Randy eagerly, his fear forgotten, as he scrabbled to his

feet.  "I seek.. what was it?  Oh, yeah.. I seek the Black Pool."

"Do you now?"  The man chuckled.  "Then answer me one

question."

"Sure.  What is it?"

"Why?"

Randy was completely at a loss at this.  He had no idea why he was

seeking the Black Pool.  He could hardly tell a holodeck figure that

he was looking for it because the computer said so - if this was a

holodeck figure.  Why hadn't the program stopped when Alexander

told it to?

Finally he decided to bluff his way out.  "You tell me," he answered

defiantly.

"Oh, that's easy," said the man.  "You are seeking the Black Pool so

that you can take something from it.  And do you know what that

something is?"

"No," Randy admitted.  "What?"

"You must take, from the clutches of the Black Pool.."  and here the

man threw back his hood with a laugh, "Jean-Luc Picard's birthday

present!"

"Q!" said Randy, stepping back against the stone wall of the parapet

in shock.

"Very, very good, Randy," said Q.  "I can see you are a real fan.

Shall we go?"

In an instant the castle, the dragon, the whole mist-shrouded world

of the program vanished.  Randy found himself on a barren, rocky

slope, under a clear sky and a hot sun.  Q was still with him, this

time in a Starfleet uniform.  The only vestige of the game was the

golden staff, still clutched in Randy's hand.

"What's going on here?"  Randy demanded.

"What do you mean, what's going on here?" said Q.  "We have

reached the end of your quest.  The final destination.  The Black

Pool.  Look!"  He pointed down over the edge of the slope.

On the ground below them lay a black, liquid mass, shimmering like

crude oil.  As Randy watched, it slithered smoothly back and forth,

like a live thing.  Beyond it, crumpled among a jumble of rocks, lay

the wreck of a shuttlecraft.

"That's.." Randy stammered.  That's..."

"Something familiar?" said Q.

"Oh, what's it called?  From the show where Tasha Yar gets killed.

Armus!"

"Armus, indeed," agreed Q.

"Q, is this real?  Are we still on the holodeck?"

"Very real," said Q.  "Life-and-death real.  Not a holodeck for miles."

Now Randy could hear voices just below him.  He stepped forward.

Over the edge of the slope, between him and the black thing

beyond, he could see the backs of a group of Starfleet officers.  One

of them, he saw as the man turned, was Will Riker - but a younger

Riker, without his beard.  And the officer standing to the left of the

group was a slender woman with short-cropped blond hair.  Tasha

Yar.

"Do something, Q!"  Randy burst out.

"What would you like me to do?"

"Stop Armus, you jerk!  It's going to kill Tasha Yar!  You know it is!"

"Why should that concern me?"

Randy was inarticulate with rage.  Unable to speak, he flew at Q, his

staff upraised.  Q caught him by the wrist, and held him, without

effort, at arm's length.

"My, my," Q clucked.  "What a little temper!  If you'd think for a

moment, Randy, you'd realize that I already have done something."

Randy stopped struggling.  "You have?  What?"

"You tell me," replied Q with a smirk.  Randy's frustration knew no

bounds. How did Q know that that was the way his father often

answered his questions?  Then he remembered, with a sinking

feeling, that he had used the same line on Q, back in the tower.

Wait a minute, though...

Randy was suddenly aghast.  "You mean me?  I'm supposed to save

her?"

"Aren't heroes on quests supposed to rescue maidens in distress?"

"But..."

"Well," Q continued, "if we stand here talking about it much longer

the question will be entirely academic, won't it?"

Shocked, Randy looked down at the group of officers, who seemed

to have taken no notice of him, or of Q.  Tasha was starting to walk

forward, trying to find a way past the black thing in front of her.  Q

was right.  In a few more seconds..

"Stop!" he shouted.  Before he quite realized what he was doing, he

was running, stumbling, down the slope towards her.  "Wait!  Tasha!

Stop!  Please stop.."

At the last moment, Tasha seemed to hear him.  She started to

swing around as Randy crashed into her.  "Go back! Go back!" he

pleaded desperately.

A bulge appeared on the surface of the pool.

"No!" Randy screamed, terrified.  Without thinking, he thrust the

golden staff towards the rising mass.  A blinding bolt of energy shot

from the pool.  But before it could strike them, it split, passing to

either side of the staff, circling Randy with light, forcing him

backward, lifting him clear of the ground, gouging into his eyes...

Then, suddenly, he felt himself thumping onto a flat, hard surface.

He opened his eyes to what seemed to be total darkness.

"...end program," said Alexander.

Randy sat up in surprise, blinking.  He was on the floor of the

holodeck, its bare walls marked only by criss-crossing lines of light.

The staff was gone.  Alexander stood in front of him, but was not

looking at him.  Instead, he was looking at a spot just past his

shoulder.

"Who are you?" Alexander asked.

Randy turned in surprise.  Behind him, sitting on the floor with a

dazed look on her face, was Tasha Yar.

*********************************************************

--

Ronald I. Orenstein                           Phone: (905) 820-7886 (home)

International Wildlife Coalition              Fax/Modem: (905) 569-0116 (home)

Home: 1825 Shady Creek Court                  Messages: (416) 368-4661

Mississauga, Ontario, Canada L5L 3W2          Internet: ornstn@hookup.net

Office: 130 Adelaide Street W., Suite 1940    Compuserve ID: 72037,2513

Toronto, Ontario Canada M5H 3P5             

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From: ornstn@hookup.net (Ronald Orenstein)

Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative

Subject: A Star Trek Birthday Story: Part 5/5 (The End!!)

Date: 8 Oct 1994 21:57:25 GMT

Organization: International Wildlife Coalition

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Happy Birthday to You, From Q (Part 5 and LAST!!)

The mood in Ten-Forward was peculiar.  Captain Picard, as might

be expected, was looking as serious and uncomfortable as a man

his of his age and temperament might be expected to be on his

birthday.  But everyone else, though trying their best to give the

appearance that they were having fun, was just as nervous.

"When do you expect the other shoe to drop?" asked Commander

Riker, unslinging his saxophone.

"I don't know, Number One," Picard replied.  "Whatever Q has in

mind, though, I expect it will happen soon."

"The annoying thing," said Riker, "is that there wouldn't be a damned

thing we could do about it if we did know."

Picard nodded.  "Well, then, I suppose we ought to enjoy ourselves

while we wait."

"That seems reasonable," put in Guinan from behind the bar.  Riker

wandered over to join Beverley and Deanna, who were trying to get

Worf to relax  - without much success.

"Jean-Luc," said Guinan urgently.  He turned to her.

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure," said Guinan, "but something odd is going on.  I think

you had better brace yourself."

That was enough for Picard.  "All hands," he ordered, "yellow alert!"

At that moment the door to Ten-Forward slid open.  Through it came

Alexander and Randy, leading a figure draped in a heavy veil

between them.  As soon as they stepped into the room they started

to sing:

"Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday, dear Captain,

Happy birthday to you!"

"Alexander, what are you.." began Worf as Randy whipped the veil

away.

There was an absolute, dead silence, broken only by the sound of

the odd dropped glass shattering on the floor.

"Lieutenant Tasha Yar reporting for duty," said Tasha, grinning

broadly.  "I appear to have been unavoidably absent without leave

for seven years.  Is this likely to affect my standing on board the

Enterprise?"

The silence continued for another moment.  Then it changed to a

hubbub as everyone crowded around Tasha and the two boys,

Beverly and Deanna hugging her and Randy in turns, Captain Picard

grinning from ear to ear, Riker and Geordi astonished, and finally

Data taking Tasha's hand and saying, quietly, "It is good to see you

again."

Finally Worf broke through the chatter.  "Captain," he said, "shall I

transfer my duties back to Lieutenant Yar?"

"Let's worry about that later, Mr. Worf," said Picard.  "The first thing I

want to know is, how did this happen?"

There was a flash at his elbow.  "How do you think?" said Q.

"I might have known, said Picard.  "Q, is this real?  Because if it

isn't, it's a very cruel joke."

"Perfectly real, Captain.  Isn't that what I told you, Randy?  Life-and-

death real.  Or, in this case, the other way round."  After a moment

he added, "Not everything I do is all that awful any more, you know.

It must be the time I spent as a human.  I've been hopelessly

corrupted."

"But I saw her die," said Beverly.

"That  was in your reality," said Q.

"Then where did she come from?"

"From an alternate reality, of course.  One where she was rescued at

the last moment by Randy, and brought here."

"But.."

"Beverly, Beverly, don't think so hard.  It gives you wrinkles.  Well,

mon Capitaine, you have your birthday present.  Randy and I must

be off."

"Wait, wait!" said Randy.  "Do I have to leave now?"

"I suppose I can spare a few minutes," sighed Q.

"Captain Picard," pleaded Randy, "can't I at least see the bridge

before I go?  Just for a minute."

Picard turned to Tasha with a smile.  "What do you think,

Lieutenant?  Do you think that would pose a security risk?"

"I hardly think so, Captain," said Tasha, ruffling Randy's hair.

"Very well.  Mr. Data, Mr. Worf, Doctor, Tasha, Deanna, Number

One, report to the bridge at once."

"Gee, Captain," said Q, "can I come too?"

But Picard ignored him as he headed out the door.  Randy turned to

Alexander.  "Goodbye, Alexander," he said.  "And thanks."

"Goodbye, Randy.  I think I'll try that program myself sometime."

Then Randy followed the others to the turbolift, and, finally, to the

bridge.

"We are about to leave this sector for the next star system in our

survey," said Picard.  "Mr. Data, will you lay in the course?"

"Course plotted and laid in, Captain," replied Data from his console.

"Ready to embark at Warp Factor three."

"Very good.  Mr. Orenstein?"

"You mean me?" said Randy, startled.

"Of course.  Will you take the conn?"  Picard indicated his own chair.

Randy looked at him in disbelief, but Picard only nodded.  All around

him, the others were smiling, and, as Randy gingerly took his place,

they began to applaud.   Randy sat for a moment, getting the feel of

the chair.  Then he called out, "Mr. Data?"

"Yes, sir?"

Randy cocked his finger, then thrust it forward.  "Engage!"

The stars on the screen before him turned to streaks, then to

streaming lines, as the Enterprise thrust forward.  Randy gripped the

arms of the chair as the lines seemed to sweep out of the screen,

past him...

"Awesome!" said Ilya.

Randy was clutching the controls of his videogame.

"Look at that score!"

Randy dropped the controls, dazed.  Had he been dreaming?  Then

he felt something soft at his feet. He looked town to see a huge pile

of blue tickets, hundreds of them, cascading out of the machine over

his shoes.  How....?

"Randy," said Peter, "where did you get the communicator badge?  It

looks real!"

Randy quickly looked down at his chest.  The badge.. so it was

real...  he tapped it, experimentally.  Nothing happened.

But when he looked up at the game screen, instead of its duelling

figures, seen only by him, was Q's face.

"Happy birthday, Randy," said Q.  "It's our little secret, you know."

Then he disappeared, for the last time.

Randy felt the badge again.  Not so little, he thought.  Not so little at

all.

--

Ronald I. Orenstein                           Phone: (905) 820-7886 (home)

International Wildlife Coalition              Fax/Modem: (905) 569-0116 (home)

Home: 1825 Shady Creek Court                  Messages: (416) 368-4661

Mississauga, Ontario, Canada L5L 3W2          Internet: ornstn@hookup.net

Office: 130 Adelaide Street W., Suite 1940    Compuserve ID: 72037,2513

Toronto, Ontario Canada M5H 3P5