“No, he might give us a minute,” Tasha said sourly.
A soldier moved toward them, leveling his weapon at them. “Get to your feet, criminals!”
The Starfleet officers ignored him. The court functionary clanged the bell again, and the last few whispers from spectators died away. Data glanced up and nodded to indicate Picard should look in that direction. “At least we’re acquainted with the judge, Captain.”
Picard was not entirely surprised to see the Q they had met on their bridge seated at a floating judge’s bench that lifted into the room. He had seized on Picard’s words about prosecution and judgment with a fervor that had surprised Picard at the time. Now Picard saw Q had somehow created this situation in order to do exactly that—prosecute and judge. If humans would not voluntarily return to their own solar system, they would be sentenced to do so.
Suddenly a nearby officer fired a burst of shots at Picard’s feet and advanced on him, screaming angrily. “Attention! On your feet, attention!” Before the captain could react, Tasha had sprung up, pivoted in and wrestled the weapon away from the man. He tried to grab her, but she easily hooked his feet from under him with one quick move of her own leg and sent him crashing to the floor on his back.
The judge’s chair shot forward as Q shouted, “You are out of order!”
“Lieutenant!” Picard snapped.
Two other soldiers stepped forward, their weapons raised. But it was not a death sentence for Tasha. Both men fired a burst at the fallen officer. His body jumped as the automatic weapons pumped bullets into him, and the spectators cheered and applauded the performance uninhibitedly.
“The prisoners will not be harmed,”Q said pleasantly. “Until they are found guilty.” He passed an amused glance to Picard, who did not respond to the taunt. Q flicked his hand negligently toward the dead officer’s body. “Dispose of that,” he said coldly. “Now then, Captain . . .”
Picard plucked the automatic weapon from Tasha, staring her down. She hesitated, then sat back down. Satisfied, Picard took a step toward Q. “Can we assume you mean this will be a fair trial?”
“Yes, absolutely equitable.”
Picard hesitated and then handed the weapon to one of the soldiers. Q floated his bench to the front of the courtroom and nodded to the bailiff. “Proceed.”
The Mandarin-Bailiff consulted his portable viewscreen. “Before this gracious court now appear these prisoners to answer for the multiple and grievous savageries of their species. How plead you, criminals?”
Data moved forward slightly. “If I may, Captain. . . .” Picard gave him an abrupt nod. He had a feeling he knew in advance how this was going to go. He could see it . . . what in historical vernacular would have been called “a setup.” Meanwhile, the android had turned to address Q. “Objection, your Honor. In the year 2036, the new United Nations declared that no Earth citizen could be made to answer for the crimes of their race or forbears.”
“Objection denied!”Q instantly retorted. The functionary clanged the bell raucously, and the spectators cheered enthusiastically.
Picard shook his head tiredly. As he thought, they were labeled as criminals in advance, guilty until proven innocent. Q had already judged human past, not their present or their promise for the future, in order to brand them as unfit to venture into the galaxy with other “more advanced” races. Q’s next words further proved Picard’s theory.
“This is a court of the twenty-first century, by which time more ‘rapid progress’ had caused all ‘United Earth’ nonsense to be abolished.” He smiled triumphantly at Picard.
Tasha angrily sprang up again, poised like a fighter on the balls of her feet. “Why don’t you judge what we are now?”
Picard reached out for her. “Lieutenant, no. . . .”
She shrugged him off, for once unmindful of the fact he was the captain, her superior officer, and a man she idolized. “I must . . .” She turned to face Q. “. . . because I grew up on a world that allowed things like this court. And it was people like these,” gestur ing toward her fellow officers, “who saved me from it. I say this so-called court should get down on its knees to what Starfleet is, what it represents—”
“Silence!”Q roared, and he waved his hand toward her. A fluttering electric blue weave enveloped her, and she instantly went rigid. Data jumped forward to catch her frozen body before it fell, then he gently lowered her to the floor.
“She is frozen in a cryonic state,” Data said, “As Lieutenant Torres was.”
Troi touched Tasha’s cold form and uncharacteristically flared with anger. “You barbarian!” she shouted at Q. “You call yourselves an enlightened race, and all you know how to do is punish anyone who offends you. That woman—”
Picard gripped her arm, and she cut off her tirade. He shook his head at her. She sensed the urgent warning he was sending. Gathering her anger, she nodded back at him.
“Criminals keep silence!” the Mandarin-Bailiff chanted.
“Quite,”Q agreed. “I insist upon an orderly procedure in my court.” He nodded at Tasha. “Civilized beings know how to conduct themselves in the presence of their superiors.”
“You’ve got a lot to learn about humans if you think you can torture us or frighten us into silence.” Picard looked back to Data, who was taking pulse and heartbeat readings from Tasha. “How is she?”
“Alive—and stable, sir. Uncertain as to how long she can survive if left in this state.”
The Mandarin-Bailiff turned to Picard. “You are charged, criminals. How plead you?”
Picard ignored him. Around the courtroom, the spectators grumbled and buzzed in irritation. The spectacle they anticipated was not forthcoming, and they were angry. Q sensed their discontent and turned on the captain himself.
“How plead you? You will answer the charges, criminals.”
“Just a moment ago, you promised ‘the prisoners will not be harmed.’ We plead nothing so long as you break your own rules.”
A low, irritated mutter swept the spectators again. The criminals were supposed to act as programmed, not in this rebellious manner. What was the matter with them?
“I suggest you center your attention on this trial, Captain,”Q said coldly. “It may be your only hope.”
“And I suggest you are now having second thoughts about it! You’re considering that if you conduct this trial fairly, which was your promise, you may lose.”
Q laughed, a short mirthless bark. “Lose?”
“Yes,” the captain said. “Keep to your agreement, and we agree to abide by your decision.” He looked meaningfully at Tasha’s frozen body. “Assaulting a prisoner is hardly a fair trial.”
Q considered. “This is a merciful court,” he said finally. He waved his hand downward at Tasha, and a ripple of blue light played over her. The young woman stirred, eyelids flickering. She moved stiffly at first, as though the cold had not quite left her. Then she sat up slowly, with Data assisting her.
The spectators had become disorderly again, shouting protests about this unseemly kindness on the judge’s part. Some of them were standing on the benches, shaking their fists at Q. The judge brought his hovering bench up over their heads and hugely amplified his voice. “Silence!” he roared. The entire courtroom trembled under the sonic impact of his order. The quarrelsome spectators sank down into their seats again, their heads low, exchanging frightened glances.
Picard watched Q’s display of power impassively. He had seen bully boys throw their weight around before. And so far, Q had not struck him as truly superior, only more powerful. Superiority, as Picard measured it, was a matter of intelligence, consideration, and morality.
In Picard’s mind, Q was coming up very short of mere human standards, much less the exalted superior ones he pretended to.
Q lowered his bench to face Picard again. “Continuing these proceedings, I must caution you that legal trickery is not permitted. This is a court of fact.”
Picard had seen it coming, and uttered th
e last words at the same time as Q. “. . . court of fact. Yes. We humans know our past, even when we’re ashamed of it. I recognize this court system as one which agreed with Shakespeare’s suggestion in Henry IV, Part II. The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.”
“Which was done,”Q pointed out equably.
Naturally, Picard thought. “Leading to the rule, guilty until proven innocent.”
“Of course,”Q agreed, still pleasantly. “Bringing the innocent to trial would be unfair.” He leaned forward, smiling malevolently; and his voice boomed out once more. “You will now answer to the charge of being a grievously savage race.”
Picard shook his head and kept his voice neutral. “We will answer specific charges. ‘Grievously savage’ could mean anything.”
“Obviously it means causing harm to fellow creatures.”
“Oh?” Picared asked innocently. “Such as you did when you froze a member of my bridge crew? Such as you did when you did the same to this woman? Will you be joining us in the dock?”
Q’s face turned ugly. Light crackled and shimmered around him. “You fool. Are you certain you want a full disclosure of human ugliness? So be it.” He flicked a hand at the Mandarin-Bailiff. “Present the charges.”
The robed bailiff bowed and referred to his portable viewscreen. Then he stepped forward and presented it for Picard’s inspection. “Criminal, you will read the charges against you to the court.”
Picard took the proffered viewscreen and scanned a good portion of it. He looked up at Q and shrugged his shoulders. “I see no charges against us, your honor.”
The judge pounded his hand on the bench top angrily. “Criminal, you are out of order!”
As if on signal, soldiers moved in on the prisoners, unslinging their automatic weapons. Two of them pressed gun barrels against Troi’s and Data’s heads. Q looked around pleasantly and his voice was conversational. “Soldiers, you will press those triggers if this criminal answers with any word other than guilty . . .” Firing actions were thumbed to full cock, and Q turned to Picard. “Criminal, how plead you?”
Picard took his time, gauging the situation. Data, of course, was rock steady, totally without fear. The android did not know what the word meant as applied to him. Troi’s eyes were wide with apprehension, but that may have meant she was picking up the aggressive tension in the room. One of the soldiers shifted his weight, anxious, anticipating that Picard’s delay meant opposition. Tasha stood by his side, ready as always to fight.
But here, Picard thought, to fight is to die. And that I am not ready to do.
“Your honor,” he said slowly, “we plead guilty.” The soldiers around him relaxed, the tension in the air lessened. Data studied him curiously, Tasha anxiously. Q leaned back in his chair, a smile of satisfaction on his face.
“Provisionally so,” Picard added.
The soldiers’ grips tightened on their weapons. They looked to Q for guidance. The alien considered the rebellious, intractable human captain. Finally, Q nodded.
“The court will hear the provision.”
“We question whether this court is abiding by its own trial instructions. Do I have permission to have Lieutenant Commander Data repeat the record?”
“I warn you, Captain, there will be no legal trickery!”Q snapped.
“Does your superior race resort to those tactics?” Picard asked. “I assure you these will be your own words.” The captain pressed ahead immediately before Q could interrupt. “Data, exactly what followed his Honor’s statement that the prisoners would not be harmed?”
Data looked inward, reviewing his information banks. Then he straightened up and inclined his head toward Q. “The captain asked the question. . . .” His voice changed to Picard’s. “Can we assume this will be a fair trial?” His voice reverted to his own pleasant tenor. “And in reply, the Judge stated. . . .” His voice shifted to emulate Q. “Yes, absolutely equitable.”
Q angrily retorted, “Immaterial testimony, entirely immaterial!”
Picard gestured to Data to fall silent. “If your Honor pleases, there is a simple way to clear up this disagreement.”Q lifted his gavel again, but Picard raised his voice forcefully. “We can clear up this disagreement.”
Q paused, studying Picard. The captain rushed ahead. “We agree there is evidence to support the court’s contention that humans have been murderous and dangerous. Therefore, I say test us. Test whether this is presently true of humans.”
Q suddenly snapped alert, perhaps sensing danger. “I see.” He studied Picard. “And you petition the court to accept you and your comrades as proof of what humanity has become.”
“There should be many ways we can be tested,” Picard pointed out. “We have a long mission ahead of us. . . .”
“Yes . . . yes!”Q said, an idea forming in his head. “Another brilliant suggestion, Captain. But your test hardly requires a long mission.”Q laughed sardonically, seeming to savor a special bit of knowledge. “Your immediate destination offers more challenge than you can possibly imagine.” He smiled even more broadly, nodding his head in satisfaction. “Yes, yes. Farpoint Station will be an excellent test.”
Picard glanced at the others. Data wore a slight frown, and the women were even more concerned. Q knew exactly where they were bound—moreover, he somehow knew exactly what awaited them there. Now the mystery Starfleet had given Picard to solve took on even greater import—and danger. But there was no point in asking Q to enlighten them. It was all part of the game he was playing—by his rules, on his ground. The Enterprise and even Farpoint Station were merely the game pieces. Picard and Q were the opposing players. Humanity’s continuing presence on the board of space was the prize.
The Mandarin-Bailiff stood as Q nodded in signal to him. “Stand respectfully!” he shouted. “All present, respectfully stand!” The spectators promptly stood. Picard jerked his head, and the others rose to join him.
Q maneuvered his floating bench into position in front of the prisoners and addressed the spectators. “This trial is adjourned to allow the criminals to be tested.”
The Mandarin-Bailiff signaled to the functionary, who promptly rang the Oriental bell twice. The bailiff’s voice resounded over the clanging. “This honorable court is adjourned!”
Picard looked around, surprised to see the soldiers shoulder their weapons and start to march out with the milling spectators. Apparently they were free. Q turned toward them, the sardonic smile twisting his mouth again.
“You are a clever human, Captain, but you may find you are not nearly clever enough to deal with what lies ahead for you. It may have been better to accept sentence here.”
“Sentence from you? On your terms? Sorry. If we’re going to be tested, we prefer it to be on even terms.”
“I’m sure you would. How do you know it will be?” Laughing, Q waved his hand toward them.
Picard turned his head away from the fiercely blinding light. As it died away, and he blinked his eyes to clear them of the dancing dots left by the abrupt flash, he became aware of the familiar hum and murmur of computers and bridge instruments. Focusing, he realized he was back on the battle bridge, seated in his command chair. Troi, Data and Tasha were also at their correct stations, all of them blinking and rubbing their eyes, disoriented by the abrupt change. The rest of the battle bridge complement did not seem to have noticed either the stunningly bright flash or the fact that Picard and the others had reappeared at their stations.
Data turned to the Ops officer beside him at the forward console and ventured a question. “What is the present course, Conn?”
The other officer stared at him in surprise. “Exactly what the captain ordered, sir. Direct heading to Farpoint Station.” The man was distinctly puzzled by the question, and even more puzzled when Data ran a quick review of his own console and turned to Picard.
Encounter at Farpoint Page 5