The Body Electric (Star Trek TNG: Cold Equations, #3)

by David Mack

Wesley Crusher came to the galaxy’s center expecting darkness; he was met by a storm.

Wesley said with a proud lift of his bearded chin.

Q favored him with a rakish grin. “Do what I always do—go bother Picard.”

“Raktajino, double strong, double sweet.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Captain: I don’t really know. Maybe I’m a mutant, a punctuated step in the long equilibrium of human evolution. Maybe I’m a fluke of the cosmos, or the product of alien tampering, or a harbinger of the future. “Some days I skirt the edges of the universe, or move past the limitations of simple four-dimensional space-time, and I feel like a demigod. Other times, I find myself standing on planets with no names, marveling at the scent of fresh air and the texture of cool grass beneath my bare feet, and I feel more human than I ever dreamed was possible. “Am I human? Or an alien?” He shrugged. “I have no idea.” He stood, and Picard did the same, circling his desk to face this man who once had looked up to him and now was ever so slightly taller than him. Wesley offered Picard his hand, and he clasped it. The Traveler smiled. “What I can tell you is this: I’m here to help, in any way that my abilities and conscience will allow. And no matter how strange I might seem, I’m always your friend.”

Now I really want a Wesley-Traveler drwho-esque Short Trek!

In an effort to keep things moving forward, Picard asked, “Do we have any other ideas worth considering?” La Forge shrugged. “We could use the gravitational mass of Abbadon for a slingshot effect that would throw us backward in time, and then we could—” “I’ll take that as a no, Mister La Forge.”