by Gene DeWeese
“My apologies, President Khozak,” Picard said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Troi wince, her eyes darting to Zalkan. The scientist’s face was frozen, his chest motionless, as if even his breathing had stopped. Something must have upset him, and badly, for Troi to allow her own reaction to his emotions to show through that much.
“However,” Picard resumed, focusing again on Khozak, “it seemed advisable to inform the entire Council at one time.”
“So,” Khozak said stiffly, “this is as much of the Council as still exists. What are these discoveries?”
“First,” Picard said, plunging ahead, “assuming the maps you provided of the mines are complete, a tunnel has been extended downward approximately two hundred meters from the lowest level.”
Some of the stiffness went out of Khozak’s bearing. He almost smiled. “Extended by the same ones who entered the mines ten years ago and tried to conceal their existence.”
“In all probability, yes, Mr. President. And, as you suspected, they are apparently still there. Mr. Data’s tricorder indicated several humanoid life-forms in or near the extended tunnel, life-forms that may or may not be Krantinese. That, however, is not the most important thing we have found.”
“Not to you, perhaps,” Khozak said, glancing tri-umphantly at the Council members, “but I can imagine nothing more important to us than finding the very people responsible for destroying our world!”
“President Khozak,” Picard said, an edge of exasperation creeping into his voice even though he could understand, even sympathize with, Khozak’s reaction, “I repeat, there is nothing to indicate that these people—or any people—are responsible for the Plague!”
“There is enough!” Khozak snapped. “You have yourself told us of the evidence!”
“Suggestions of an association, nothing more! Whoever they are, they could be victims, the same as the Krantinese.”
Khozak was silent a moment. Finally he shrugged. “Very well, I admit there is something in what you say. However, I intend to speak with these people, whoever they are, and on my terms!”
“I can ask for nothing more.”
“Now, Captain Picard, you said there was something even more important than the presence of these beings?”
Picard took another breath. “Not far from the tunnel extending down from the mines is a deposit of an extremely valuable mineral called dilithium.”
“Dilithium?” Khozak frowned. “I have never heard of it. What is it? Why is it valuable?”
“To Krantin, with its present level of technology, it isn’t valuable. However, to the Federation—to anyone with matter-antimatter technology, particularly warp-drive starships—it is one of the most valuable substances in the galaxy.” Picard looked around at the Council members. He was at least slightly relieved to see that their faces, unlike Khozak’s, reflected more curiosity than anger.
“And this dilithium is what these . . . invaders are after?” Khozak asked.
“It almost certainly is,” Picard admitted, “whoever or whatever they are.”
“And you, a servant of this Federation, to whom this substance has great value,” Khozak said, his voice suddenly filled with disbelief, “you only discovered the presence of this dilithium—when? Yesterday?”
“Yesterday, yes. When Mr. Data descended to the lower levels of the mines, he was able to adjust his tricorder to obtain readings hundreds of meters farther down. Zalkan,” Picard went on, glancing toward the scientist, who twitched nervously at the sudden attention, “your belief that the effects of the Plague become weaker as you descend underground appears to be valid.”
Khozak waved off any reply by Zalkan, though the scientist did not seem inclined to speak in any event. “And you had no suspicion,” Khozak persisted, “that this dilithium existed until your Mr. Data discovered it?”
“Of course not,” Picard said, forcing himself to ignore the sarcastic tone of Khozak’s words. “How could we? We have explained how our sensors are hampered by the Plague.”
“And yet you offered to help us,” Khozak continued, his tone even more sarcastic. “You even provided a superior laser unit for our power plant and promised several more—all before you even suspected the existence of this valuable substance.”
“Khozak, don’t be a complete paranoid fool!” Denbahr exploded, somewhat to Picard’s relief. “You’ve seen their ship! Don’t you realize, if all they were interested in was this dilithium, whatever it is, they could have taken it anytime they wanted? Why would they even tell us about it?”
She shook her head in renewed exasperation. “Why would they even tell us they were here? They could’ve set one of their shuttlecraft down at the mines and dug for years, like those others apparently have done—they could’ve set off skyrockets to signal shift changes, and we’d never have had a clue they were even there! We didn’t have a clue these others, whoever they are, were out there, doing whatever they’ve been doing for the last ten years! Except for the power plant, we don’t have a clue about anything that’s happening outside Jalkor, am I right? So tell me, President Khozak, if they want to steal this dilithium or anything else, why have they gone to all the trouble they’ve gone to to let us know about it? And about themselves and everything else they’ve told us, even about the Plague?”
When Denbahr had first started to speak, Khozak had glared at her furiously, but by the time she finished, he had gotten control of himself and forced his features into a smile.
“You misunderstand,” he said. “I merely wish to understand the situation. This could, after all, be the most important event in a hundred years. It must be dealt with thoroughly, not with a casual word or two.” He turned to Picard. “You understand my motives, I trust, and are not offended by my questions.”
“Of course not, Mr. President,” Picard said, noting Troi’s continuing presence out of the corner of his eye. “In matters of this import, full and mutual understanding is imperative. I’m sure, for example, that the Federation will want a similar depth of understanding when it comes time to make formal arrangements regarding the dilithium.”
“Of course, of course. But first we must dispose of the invaders.”
“Dispose of?” A frown flickered across Picard’s brow at Khozak’s choice of words.
Khozak nodded. “Clear them out somehow. Now that we know they are there, we can take them by surprise and—”
“In the first place, Mr. President,” Picard interrupted, “the layout of the mines being what it is, your men would have to descend one at a time, slowly and probably noisily. Second, if whoever is in the mines has the same ability to appear and disappear that the ships have—and the fact that we have detected energy surges in the vicinity of the mines indicates they do—then whoever you send down there will probably be helpless against them. As helpless as the Enterprise was to keep the ships from vanishing from under our very noses. And finally and most importantly for Krantin, even if these people are responsible for the Plague, there is no reason to believe that simply killing them or driving them out would end the Plague. If we are to have a chance to understand and end the Plague, we need to talk to them, not drive them away.”
“But if they are responsible for the Plague—”
“All the more reason to be cautious, I would think,” Picard interrupted again. “There’s nothing to say that they are responsible, but if they are, they are likely to be capable of much more. Nor are they likely to be reluctant to make use of those capabilities, whatever they may be.”
Khozak paled at the thought, slumping in his chair. He nodded weakly. “You are right, of course. I obviously hadn’t thought the matter through thoroughly enough. I could only think—these could be the creatures who destroyed our world.”
“The feeling is understandable, Mr. President,” Picard said blandly.
“But what can we do?” one of the seven asked abruptly. “Whether they are responsible for the Plague or not, we could be at their mercy.” He shivered, looking
around. “You said they were already in the city!”
“I said we had detected energy surges in the vicinity of the city,” Picard corrected him. “We have no idea what those surges meant. They could have meant things—or people—were arriving; they could have meant things were leaving. Or both. All we know is that the surges were smaller than those we detected in the area of the mines. But since we don’t know what happened in the mines either, that doesn’t help much.”
“This dilithium—” Khozak seemed to have recovered from his momentary despair. “You say it is valuable but not to us directly. Your Federation would—What would you give us for it? What kind of help? What kind of help is possible for a world like Krantin?”
Picard was silent a moment, relieved that Khozak finally appeared to be ready to deal rationally with the situation. “At this point,” he admitted, “I don’t know. At the very least, if your present population is as low as you say—five million, I believe you said—a mass evacuation is conceivable, provided a suitable world, or worlds, can be found. And provided your people wish it. What the Federation can try to do is find the cause of the Plague and stop it. If that is successful, then it might be possible to eventually restore Krantin to something approaching its original state. But in even the most optimistic case, any meaningful restoration would be decades away.”
“And your Federation would do this—would attempt these things? In return for the dilithium?”
Picard suppressed a sigh, wondering what Troi was picking up from the president. He supposed the man’s cynicism and distrust was justified, considering Krantin’s history, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Denbahr looked as if she was on the verge of reading him the riot act again.
“I cannot yet speak officially for the Federation,” Picard said carefully, “but I assure you they will do whatever is feasible to help your world, regardless of what you decide to do regarding the dilithium.”
“Need I again point out, President Khozak,” Denbahr said, intensely but quietly, “that they have already given us essential help for the power plant? And that it was given before they even knew of the existence of this dilithium?”
Khozak ignored her, turning to Zalkan. “You said it would be possible to contact everyone in Jalkor.”
“We can send messages to every functioning terminal,” Zalkan said. “As you well know, however, ninety percent of the populace is largely beyond reach.”
“As I well know, yes,” Khozak sighed. “But now we can give that ninety percent a reason to rejoin us. It may take some time, but—”
“A reason, Khozak?”
“Yes, a reason! If we announce the discovery of this dilithium, and if we can explain what it means, what the help of the Federation means—”
“No!” Zalkan snapped, and Picard was surprised both at the scientist’s reaction and at its vehemence. “You must not make any such announcement!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Denbahr shot back angrily. “If Jalkor is going to survive long enough for any of this to come true, we need at least some of these people to keep the machines running, to keep our air breathable. You of all people know how much needs to be done and how few there are to do it.”
“I know, but—but it is dangerous! You just heard how these—these ‘invaders’ may be in Jalkor itself. Seven energy surges, Commander Data said, within the city! And you would make this announcement, letting the invaders know that we know about them! What might they do then?”
“Zalkan is right,” another of the Council members said. “You don’t know who these invaders are or what they are capable of. If, as you yourself believe, they are indeed responsible for the Plague—” She shook her head. “And we all know how vulnerable we are. A break in the roof is all it would take. Or in a wall. We have quite enough trouble keeping our own people from destroying what’s left of the city. No, until we know who these invaders are, we can’t let them know that we know they’re here.”
“If they don’t already know,” Delmak said. “If they were able to tamper with the records computer, who knows what else they may have done? They could be monitoring us this very minute!”
For a long moment there was total silence. Finally Khozak turned to Picard. “We must do something! You are the ones who told us of these invaders, of the material they are doubtless trying to steal. You have told us it would be suicidal to send our security forces down to confront them. What do you suggest we do? Simply wait for them to take the dilithium?”
“Of course not,” Picard said, glancing toward Data. “We suggest that we return to the mines and that Mr. Data descend as he did yesterday and continue down to the levels where the life-forms were indicated. Once at that level, his tricorder should be able to pinpoint the individual life-forms and may enable him to observe them without being seen. We will try to keep a transporter lock on him so that he can be pulled out if he feels the danger has become too great.”
Khozak frowned. “But I was given to understand that your ‘transporters’ could not be safely used within the Plague.”
“They aren’t as safe as we’d like, but with the Enterprise in low orbit, it should be safe enough, provided one of the energy surges doesn’t occur during the few seconds required for a transport. In any event, depending on what Mr. Data finds, he will either try to establish contact or return undetected to a higher level of the mines, at which time his observations could be evaluated and further plans made.”
Khozak didn’t like it. At the very least, he said, he wanted a number of his security officers to accompany Data. At one point he even proposed flooding the lower levels of the mines with a deadly, fast-acting gas, until it was pointed out that even the fastest-acting gas couldn’t possibly reach all points of the tunnels rapidly enough.
“You might kill one or two,” Picard pointed out patiently, “or even a dozen, but all you’d do to the rest is make them angry—assuming they’re not angry already.”
Finally, reluctantly, Khozak abandoned his opposition to Picard’s cautious, nonlethal plan. Data would descend into the mine the next day. In the meantime, one shuttlecraft would be stationed near the mines, another near the city, watching for energy surges, hoping a pattern of some kind would emerge in either location or that the location of the surges within the city could be pinpointed.
As they were preparing to leave, with Picard and Data still answering the Council members’ questions about the uses and value of dilithium, Troi took Zalkan aside and motioned for Koralus to follow. Except for a few moments immediately after the captain had first disclosed what they had found at the bottom of the mines, the scientist had somehow maintained a stiff, emotionless exterior. His inner agitation, however, had been a shrill and painful assault on Troi’s empathic sense ever since. The only times it had lessened even slightly had been the rare moments when his eyes had settled briefly on Koralus.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice as neutral as his appearance as he stood facing her, carefully avoiding looking at Koralus, who stood a meter to her right.
“Zalkan,” she said softly, her voice not carrying the few meters to the nearest of the Council members, “perhaps we can help you.”
“Your doctor?” He shook his head. “She has already—”
“Perhaps medically also, but that is not what I meant.”
“Then what? Help Krantin, you mean?”
“That, too, but I meant you, personally, in dealing with whatever it is that has you so frightened.”
He shook his head, frowning, and she felt his terror ratchet even higher. “You do not make sense. I am no more frightened than Khozak or any of the others. This news of the ships and the Plague has unnerved us all.”
“I know that, Zalkan. But I also know that there are things that frighten you and you alone.”
“Nonsense! Are you saying I am a coward? Well, perhaps I am. I am a scientist, not a warrior.”
“That is not what I meant.” She paused, realizing that by trying to ease up to
what she had to say, she was making him more terrified, not less. She put a hand lightly on his arm. “I am an empath,” she said. “I can sense emotions, and those emotions very often allow me to tell whether a person is being truthful or not.”
With her words, she winced, feeling his terror abruptly escalate to new heights. Shaking his head, he tried to jerk free of her grip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he hissed. “Now let me go!”
Grimacing at the flood of fear that poured out of him, stabbing into her mind like a hundred daggers, she found that it was all she could do to retain her grip on his arm despite his physical weakness. Abruptly, she began to fear he would collapse on the spot.
“I know you are sincere in your concern for Krantin,” she said quickly, forcing her voice to remain soft and reassuring despite her pain, “but I also know that you are in far more trouble than you have let anyone know. That is what I meant when I said we might be able to help you.”
For another second, the fear continued to batter at Troi’s mind and Zalkan continued to struggle feebly against her grip.
But then his eyes flickered toward Koralus and, like a punctured balloon, he went limp, no longer struggling. The bulk of the fear that had filled his mind to the bursting shriveled as well, replaced by a painful mixture of resignation and relief. All this with barely a sound, certainly none that reached the ears of the Council members, though Picard had been carefully watching the two of them out of the corner of his eye.
“You wanted to tell us the truth,” Troi said even more softly, “but you were afraid to trust us.”
Weakly, he nodded, saying nothing. Troi looked toward Picard, and for a moment their eyes met.
Chapter Thirteen
“AT LEAST YOU MUST PROMISE to hear me out,” Zalkan said weakly, “before you make any judgments.”
“Of course,” Picard agreed, his eyes again going worriedly to Troi, who nodded her reassurance. The emotional battering that Zalkan’s terror had subjected her to had left her shaken, but she had insisted on staying close and monitoring the scientist while he told his story. Data and Koralus stood to one side, listening.