Star Trek-TNG-Novel-Imzadi 1

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Star Trek-TNG-Novel-Imzadi 1 Page 11

by Peter David


  her mother had passed away some years previously;

  and that she preferred new age music.

  Riker feigned being wounded. "I must

  introduce you to the joys of real music. This new

  age stuff is just noise."

  "So what's real music, then?"

  He grinned. "Dixieland. Swing. The

  big-band era."

  "Big band?" she said, sounding puzzled. "You

  mean they're excessively tall?"

  "I'll explain it later," he said, for he

  had spotted the chapel just up ahead.

  He saw a number of Betazoids filing in

  through the doors, smiling and greeting one another.

  It was his first opportunity to see a large number

  of them together, and he was struck by the feeling that something

  seemed a bit wrong. Then he immediately realized

  what it was.

  There was hardly any talking.

  People would nod, smile to each other, tilt their

  heads as if they were listening intently to one another.

  But except for the occasional stray ^w of

  exclamation, or some random laughter here and there, not

  a ^w was spoken.

  "They're communicating telepathically, aren't

  they?" said Riker in realization as they approached.

  "Of course."

  "Then this is liable to be a fairly dull

  ceremony. Everyone standing around thinking things at

  each other and we can't hear them."

  "Oh"--Wendy waved off the concern and laughed

  --?t won't happen. Weddings are always done out

  loud, in consideration of any offworlders who might be

  in the audience."

  "That's a relief." He thought about it a

  moment. "Will I be able to communicate with any of

  them? Mentally, I mean? I've never met a

  Betazoid ... I'm not sure what's

  involved."

  "You won't be able to, no. Oh, they'll be

  able to pick up on what's going through your mind

  easily enough. But for you to send and receive

  projections, well ... it's a technique.

  It's something that you have to learn, involving mental

  discipline and learning how to clear your mind.

  Unless, of course, you're dealing with a really strong

  telepath."

  He looked surprised. "You mean they're not

  all equally adept?"

  "Of course not. Are all humans equally

  intelligent? Equally athletic? Equally

  eloquent? No. All Betazoids are

  telepathic to some degree. Most can read minds

  without too much difficulty. But only a small

  percentage are really so powerful, so ...

  formidable," she said, for want of a better ^w, "and

  they're the ones you have to watch out for. They're the

  toughest."

  "Toughest?"

  "To know how to act around. They're so casual

  about their abilities, it's hard to feel like

  anyplace inside you is ... I don't know

  ... safe."

  "I'll watch out for that."

  They entered the chapel. The air inside was

  cool and fresh. They entered a large room where

  everyone seemed to be milling about, just conversing ...

  or whatever one would call it ... with each other.

  Riker looked slowly around the room. It was

  fairly plain, although inscriptions written in

  Betazed lined parts of the wall. What was also odd

  were the recesses all along the side, and dangling

  from the recesses were what appeared to be clothes

  hangers of some sort. On the floor was a

  series of small boxes. Riker idly tapped

  one with his toe and the hollow sound confirmed that it was

  empty.

  Hangers and empty boxes. Probably for

  days when the weather was inclement and people brought coats

  and such.

  At the far end of the room was a set of ornate

  doors, closed. Riker presumed that the actual

  ceremony would be through there, but they probably

  weren't ready yet.

  Several of the Betazoids seemed to pick up

  on Riker's presence. They looked in his

  direction, smiled and nodded. It was as if to say,

  We know you're here. Welcome. And then they

  went back to their own communications.

  Riker had once been to a world where none of the

  occupants had standard auditory or verbal

  equipment. They communicated entirely through hand

  movements. Riker had been to a party there, and the

  silence was positively eerie. The only sound that

  had broken the quiet was the slap of skin on skin

  as their hands would come together to form certain ^ws.

  This wasn't quite as bad as that ... but still, it was rather

  disconcerting.

  "A little difficult to deal with, isn't it," said

  a voice from behind him.

  Riker turned and saw a thin but

  pleasant-looking Betazoid smiling at him.

  "Pardon?" asked Riker.

  The Betazoid gestured. "All this. The

  quiet communion. You are from Earth, are

  you not?"

  Riker realized the man knew the answer to the

  question already, but was doing Riker the courtesy of

  allowing him to answer it. "That's right. Lt.

  William Riker."

  "Gart Xerx, your host."

  "Ah. Congratulations, Mr. Xerx."

  ""Gart"' will do." Xerx nodded at Riker's

  companion. "Good to see you again, Wendy."

  "You too, Gart. I'm very happy for you and

  Chandra."

  "Thank you, Wendy." Xerx indicated the

  closed doors with a nod of his head and said, "They

  should be ready to start in just a moment or two.

  Chandra's quite nervous, of course. She wants

  everything about her appearance to be perfect."

  "I know how it is," said Riker. "The bride

  wants to make sure the dress looks just right."

  Gart Xerx smiled politely. "Well ...

  that might be true in your culture,

  Lieutenant. We don't have that problem,

  actually."

  "Then you're very fortunate," said Riker.

  The edges of Xerx's mouth turned upward

  slightly. "You don't know, do you." It wasn't

  a question.

  "Know what?"

  At that moment, the doors at the far end opened.

  They moved very slowly and ponderously, and Riker

  watched them, interested to catch a glimpse of the

  wedding sanctuary within.

  It was dazzling, filled from ceiling to floor with

  flowers, all exotic and tropical. It seemed

  as if a small jungle had been grown inside

  the sanctuary specifically for the purpose of the

  marriage. Riker caught a whiff of moist air

  --obviously the climate was carefully maintained

  in order to preserve the flowers to their maximum

  advantage.

  He turned back to Gart Xerx to compliment him

  on the arrangement and was astounded to see that Xerx had

  removed his shirt, revealing a bare chest that was

  amazingly smooth.

  "Excuse me ... what are you doing?" asked

  Riker, trying to keep the astonishment out of his

  voice. He turned to Wendy to see her

  reaction.

  What he saw was Wendy's l
ow-cut green

  dress even lower than it was before ... namely on the

  floor. She was stepping out of it, and

  Riker was seeing a lot more of her cleavage than

  had been displayed previously ... to be

  specific, all of it that there was to see.

  His now-nude escort looked up at him with

  innocent doe eyes. "What are you waiting for,

  W? Musical accompaniment?"

  She laughed lightly, turned, and headed toward

  the hangers, her dimpled backside swaying

  cheerfully back and forth. And now Riker saw,

  to his utter shock, that all of the guests were

  stripping off their clothes and placing them on the

  hangers provided.

  Gart, who was naked and holding his clothes

  draped over one arm, looked at Riker

  sympathetically. "I'm very sorry,

  Lieutenant. They should have told you. Perhaps Mark

  Roper was concerned that, if you knew, you wouldn't be

  interested in attending."

  Riker's mouth was working, but at first he couldn't

  get any ^ws to come out. Finally he managed

  to stammer, "Is this ... standard?"

  "Oh, yes," said Gart calmly. "At a

  Betazed wedding, the bride, groom, wedding party,

  and guests all attend nude."

  "Why?"

  "To symbolize that, physically and spiritually, there

  is nothing to hide. That all are sharing in complete

  cooperation in the spirit of harmony and unity."

  Riker had a feeling that all the blood had

  drained from his face. "Well ..." He cleared

  his throat, unsure of what he should do.

  Starfleet protocol required cooperation with

  local mores and customs wherever possible, so

  long as no violation of the Prime Directive was

  involved. There was nothing in the Prime

  Directive about getting naked in front of over

  one hundred strangers, so he was clear on that

  score. But even so ...

  "Lieutenant," said Gart, trying not to show as

  much amusement as he was clearly experiencing.

  "If you don't go naked, I assure you, no

  one will think the less of you. We believe in not

  asking more of an individual than he is capable

  of giving. This is a time of celebration, not

  embarrassment. Attend the wedding in whatever

  manner you will feel the most comfortable."

  "I don't want to insult anyone ...," said

  Riker uncertainly.

  "Nor will anyone take offense. Now, if

  you'll excuse me ... I have guests

  to attend to." Gart walked to the hangers, leaving

  Riker alone in the middle of a room of stripping

  people.

  Wendy walked back up to Riker and looked

  at him reprovingly. She placed her hands on

  her hips in a fashion that was probably chosen

  to look especially provocative. "What's this,

  W? Having trouble? Here ... I'll help."

  She reached up to the fastenings on his uniform.

  He grabbed her wrists, though not particularly

  hard. Through a tight smile he said, "You could have

  told me beforehand, you know."

  "What?" She looked shocked. "And miss the

  opportunity to see your expression?"

  "You've seen it. How did it rate?"

  "I think you'd look at a firing squad of

  Klingons with less trepidation than you're looking

  at a bunch of naked people."

  "At least with the firing squad, I'd have a bit

  of warning."

  "Oh, W." Now she was grinning widely.

  "Come on. You have nothing to be ashamed of." Then

  she paused and raised an eyebrow thoughtfully.

  "Do you?"

  "No!" said Riker a bit too loudly, so

  he repeated, "No," but more softly this time.

  "Well then ...?"

  "Well, to be honest ..." He put his fingers

  to his forehead, trying to figure the best way

  to put it. "I've never been in a position where

  I'm trying to maintain my dignity and status as

  a Starfleet officer without benefit of the uniform

  ... or anything else."

  "Then don't worry about your position.

  Worry about joining in the celebration. Look ...

  if you don't want to strip, then don't. Come in

  anyway."

  "Okay. Fine. Thanks for understanding."

  He went in with her to the chapel, and the full

  fragrance of the flowers wafted through the air. It was

  as if he'd stepped out from the city and straight into the

  jungle.

  Wendy guided him to an aisle seat about

  halfway down. He looked around.

  Naked people to the right of him, and to the left. In

  front and behind.

  Everyone seemed utterly casual, even

  oblivious of their nudity. No one was tense or

  embarrassed. In fact, they seemed even more

  relaxed than they had been outside.

  Even men and women who, by the standards of the human

  ideal, would have been far better served wearing

  clothes (if not pup tents) weren't the least bit

  bothered by their nudity.

  He felt as if everyone were staring at him.

  Riker knew they weren't, of course ... but he

  felt that way.

  Turning to Wendy, he said, "Excuse me

  ... be right back," and he got up and walked out

  before she could ask him where he was going.

  She sat there, staring at his empty chair,

  no.ing and smiling to the other people, and wondering where in

  hell Riker had gone off to. Then she heard

  him say, "Thanks for saving my seat."

  She looked up and grinned. "So you decided

  to join the party after all."

  He sat down next to her, not precisely

  sure how to place his bare legs. He wound up

  just sitting with them flat, his hands on his thighs.

  He noted for the first time that the seats were nicely

  cushioned, for which he was grateful. Cold metal

  would not have been especially appreciated right about

  then.

  Wendy leaned over and said softly into his ear,

  "You were right, by the way ... you have nothing to be

  ashamed of."

  He liked the tone of her voice as she said it

  ... it had a certain degree of promise to it.

  "Thank you. You're very kind."

  She sat back and said, "I'm not sure why you

  were so nervous. I mean, what did you think was going

  to happen? Women were going to point and laugh?"

  "I don't know. It's just a different situation

  for me, that's all. I thought people might say things that

  made me feel self-conscious."

  "Oh, don't be silly. Like what?"

  An older Betazoid woman was being guided

  toward the front by Gart Xerx. Riker assumed

  that it was probably his mother, or perhaps a

  great-aunt. She stopped, looked at Riker, and

  frowned. "You human men are very hairy. Why is

  that?"

  Xerx rolled his eyes in mild mortification.

  Wendy put her hand over her mouth to cover her

  grin.

  But Riker, nonplussed, merely said,

  "Traction."

  Wendy emitted a quick burst of laughter, which

  she ju
st as quickly stifled. Xerx was grinning openly.

  The old woman looked at Riker through

  narrowed eyes and then allowed herself to be led away.

  "Traction?" whispered Wendy.

  "I had to say something."

  "Well, what you said was wonderful. You see?

  And you were worried that you wouldn't be able to maintain

  your dignity while naked. You handled that in a very

  dignified manner."

  "Thank you."

  Wendy appeared to be sizing him up for a moment,

  and then she coyly fingered a strand of his chest hair.

  Riker crossed his legs.

  At that moment, the ceremony started ... a

  moment marked by the sound of a very loud gong.

  The lieutenant focused his attention toward the

  front of the wedding sanctuary.

  The wedding party was entering, and yes, they were naked

  as well. From one side of the sanctuary entered the

  groom, in the lead, followed by his mother.

  To Riker's surprise, the mother was pulling on

  his arm, trying to stop him. He ignored her,

  taking one implacable step after the other, toward the

  middle of the room. Into his path stepped a man

  whom Riker assumed to be his father. The father raised

  a hand, putting his palm up, signaling the groom

  to stop. The groom took his father by the forearm and

  shoved him aside ... not roughly, and in fact,

  Riker saw that the groom was taking care not to make

  the action too violent, for fear of actually

  causing the older man to stumble.

  "Symbolic, I take it," Riker said in a

  low voice to Wendy. She nodded confirmation.

  The groom stopped in front of a clergyman

  (presumably), who stood dead center of the room

  with a long scroll between his hands. They looked off

  to the right, and now the parents of the bride entered--the

  bride's mother sobbing loudly onto the shoulder of

  Gart Xerx. Too loudly--clearly more

  symbolism, but Riker thought the mother might be

  playing it up just a bit too much even for something that

  was supposed to be representational.

  And then the bride walked in. The bride ...

  Walked ...

  Riker blinked in that way people do when they're not

  entirely sure they're seeing what their eyes are

  telling them they're seeing.

  She was gorgeous.

  Her eyes were the most luminous that Riker had

  ever seen. She held her pointed chin in an almost

  aristocratic manner, and her dark hair hung in

  thick ringlets around her head. Her

  neck was slender, and her figure ... well, as

  they said in old detective novels, her body

  had the kind of curves that, if you were a car, made

 

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