by David
covered with cultivated fields. To Marcus'
eye, untutored in agrarian matters, the
crop in those fields looked like what Magna
Romans called frumentum, grown high and
ready for harvesting. However, he realized that the
plant might be something else entirely, something
native to Tenara, and perhaps it was still at an
early stage of its growth cycle. Such concerns
were the province of farmers, not something an urban
patrician concerned himself with.
It would help to know, though, he told
himself, in order to open the conversation with these
peasants on a friendly level.
Boots would have been impractical on such
uneven ground, and armor out of the question in the warm
sunlight. Marcus congratulated himself on
having chosen sandals and a simple tunic.
Dressed this way, he was very comfortable. As always,
he was very pleased with himself.
Across the valley, a small village sat
near the top of one of the hills. It was well
above the limit of the cultivated fields, its
houses set close together so that they didn't
use up any of the arable land. Marcus nodded his
approval of such efficiency. The village was
his destination. He had beamed down just out of sight
of it but within easy walking distance.
Marcus turned and set out across the
brow of the hills that formed the sides of the
valley. He could have saved quite a bit of time and
distance by cutting across the valley, but that would have
taken him through some of the cultivated land. Such
peasants as these, Marcus knew, would be
angered by any damage to their crops.
At least that was the way it was on Magna
Roma these days. Spurred on by their initial
contact with the Federation, the old Imperial
Government had begun its sudden, yet
surprisingly peaceful transformation into the
Republic of today almost eighty years ago.
Around the time of his birth, the new Magna
Roman government had begun its serious push
for land reform. The latifundia, the great
estates of imperial days, had been broken
up and parceled out to people whose ancestors had been
serfs on those very latifundia. The
descendants of the serfs now farmed their own land,
and would not tolerate the presence of someone like
Marcus on that land. Membership in the
Volcinii gens, or any of the other great,
ancient clans, had once ensured the
terrified obedience of the serfs. Now it
guaranteed only the hatred of their
descendants.
In the valley, a swarm of people moved among
the rows of plants, bent over, searching for
weeds and pest damage. One of them noticed
Marcus and called out to him. The others
straightened and looked where their comrade was
pointing. Still immersed in his gloomy thoughts of the
current situation on his homeworld, Marcus
stiffened in momentary fear of the farmers.
Then he realized that they were waving at him in
normal Tenaran friendliness. He smiled
broadly at them, waved back, and continued
toward the village.
The village was empty, but the schoolhouse
was easy to find.
Once he was in the village, Marcus could
see that it consisted of houses arranged in a rough
circle around a larger building, which he knew
would be the combination meeting hall, saavta
assembly hall, and school.
All of the houses were one-story square
structures made of wood, with rounded roofs of
roughly woven dried grass. It was a
primitive design in Marcus' eyes, but
he had to admit that it probably
served well in the mild climate of these parts.
The central building, though, was two
stories high, fronted by a ground-level
porch. Marcus squinted upward and made out
individual wooden planks, each carefully
bent into a curve, so that together they formed the dome
of the roof. A lot of trouble to go to, he
thought. It graphically demonstrated how
important this building was to the Tenarans. That
pleased Marcus. It was a kinship. The
Senate of Magna Roma still met in the very
same stone building in the city of Rome that the
ancient Romans had used, long before their
empire had conquered their entire world. That
building had an almost religious significance
for Magna Romans, and here, in the care taken
with the saavta building in this obscure
village on Tenara, he saw the foundation of the
same mystical respect. Marcus nodded
approvingly and stepped onto the porch.
The ground floor consisted of one large
room, quite empty. Just like the village,
Marcus thought. All of the inhabitants must be
down in the valley tending to their crops. Then
he heard voices. To his right, he saw a
flight of stairs. He climbed it to the
second floor, moving a bit hesitantly,
still unsure of his reception.
The second floor was divided into four
rooms, only one of which was in use. A dozen
children sat on the floor or on chairs, or
leaned against the walls, listening with varying
degrees of interest to an older woman in the
center of the room.
Marcus stopped in the doorway,
unobserved, and listened for a while. The woman
was reciting a list of names in an almost singsong
voice.
Names to learn by rote, Marcus thought
scornfully. Peasant lore, passed down
orally to the next generation.
He stepped forward and cleared his throat.
The teacher stopped in mid-word and looked at
Marcus in confusion. "Yes? Who--"
But the children knew. Somehow, their grapevine
had carried to them word of the exciting visitors from
space. "He's from Starfleet!" one of them
shouted, and then they all rushed at Marcus,
grinning eagerly.
He was alarmed again for a moment, but
held his ground and smiled at the children.
They surrounded him, fingering the machine-made
cloth of his tunic with awe, and showering him with
questions. He could hardly make out a word they were
saying.
"One at a time," he laughed. "Please!"
The teacher's voice cut through the babble.
"Children! Show some manners!" When their voices
quieted, she said to Marcus, "Are you lost,
sir? Can we help you find your way somewhere?"
Marcus grinned happily. This is so
easy! "No, actually I'm right where I
wanted to be. I'm here to help you teach."
"Help me teach?" she repeated in
bewilderment.
"Oh, yes." He held up the small hand
computer he had brought with him from the
Centurion. "With your permission, I thought
I'd give your students a short course in
Roman history."
The happy shouts of the children drowned out the
teacher's confused protests and were all the
encouragement Marcus needed. Tenara had a
long way to go, and Marcus Julius
Volcinius was here to guide it in the right
direction.
The day's work had been long and physically
exhausting. Jenny was glad when the last of the
equipment was beamed down, and the temporary
shelters for the Enterprise personnel set
up.
Again, by way of contrast, the Centurion's
personnel had beamed down prefabricated
building blocks, which they quickly assembled into a
barracks that resembled nothing so much as an armed
fortress to Jenny, and (from the shocked
expressions on their faces) to the group of
Tenarans accompanying her.
This last part of Jenny's day was the most
exhausting; not physically, but mentally. She was
taking Chairman Melkinat and the other members
of the Great Saavta on a brief tour of the
ground-based defense installations the Magna
Romans were setting up. There were about thirty of
them altogether, walking behind her. Even as she
spoke, pointing out each weapon and detailing
its capabilities, she could sense the
Tenarans' distaste and see the way they cringed from
the machines she was showing them.
Commander Riker was right, she thought. I
don't think these people are ready for this.
Jenny turned to them. "Look, I know you
don't really approve of all of this, but
we're doing it to protect you from further
M'dok attacks. If you really don't
want any of these devices"--she swept her
arm out to indicate the entire collection of
weapons and the crews manning them--"you can just
tell us to take them away and leave, and we will.
This is your world, and we're only here
by invitation."
She'd spoken perhaps more plainly than she'd
intended--the Tenarans seemed to sense the
annoyance in her voice and backed away from
her.
Melkinat stepped forward from the pack and said
gently, "Don't distress yourself on our
account, Ensign de Luz. We all understand the
need for these weapons, and we appreciate the
efforts of your two ships to help us." He
turned to the other Tenarans, who added their loud
assurances to his.
The chairman continued, "Please don't
misinterpret our distaste for disapproval,
Ensign. It's just ... well, difficult for
us."
He drew a deep breath and pointed at the
phaser-mounted cannon the Centurion's
crew had transported down. "These are very
powerful devices. You say they can detect a
ship in space as soon as it approaches
Tenara, and if necessary, even destroy it while
it's still in space. If that's so, then why do
you--I mean, we--need any other installations
than this one? I know you plan to place similar
devices elsewhere on Tenara."
"Because of blind spots, sir," Jenny said.
The Tenarans looked puzzled. "You see,"
she explained, "none of these weapons we have here
can fire through a planet, so that means that an
enemy--a raider, I should say--can approach
in Tenara's shadow, in other words, from such a
direction that the planet itself shields the ship from
the weapons. This means that even though the
satellite system we plan to set up can
detect a raider approaching from any
direction, the weapons may not be able to fire
on it. So we plan--with your permission, of
course--to establish similar
collections of weapons across Tenara's land
surfaces and on rafts out at sea, so that no
matter which direction the M'dok try
to approach from, they can still be kept away."
"All over the world?" one of the Tenarans
repeated. This was an older woman, her hair
pure white and thinning, who had earlier been
introduced to Jenny as Anka. "I had
hoped," Anka went on, "that we could limit
the exposure of our people to these devices, but if
they're everywhere, then that becomes impossible,
doesn't it?"
"I suppose it's the price we have to pay
to protect our world, Anka," Melkinat said
sadly, his distress evident.
"The price is not worth paying,
Chairman."
The loud grumblings that followed her words
indicated that a great many of her fellow
Tenarans agreed with her.
"We have been over this before," Melkinat said.
"The vote was to defend our world--not to die like
cattle."
Anka glared at him. "I call for another
vote, then."
Jenny saw that the Tenarans had split
into two factions--factions rapidly moving
apart from each other. The smaller group consisted
of Melkinat and the other members of the Central
Council. The larger group, about two dozen
people, included Anka and those Great Saavta
members who were not part of the Central Council.
Jenny tried to defuse the situation. "Our
presence here is a deterrent, one we hope will
shortly become unnecessary. If we can convince the
M'dok to stop these raids--"
"And if you can't?" A member of Anka's
faction, a slender, bearded man with a
surprisingly deep voice, moved to the front
of the pack. "What then?"
"We have every hope that we will be able to."
Jenny knew as soon as she spoke how weak
her answer sounded.
"I have another question for you, Melkinat,"
Anka demanded. "What happens when the
Federation leaves? Who will man these weapons
then?"
The grumbling from the people behind her grew even
louder.
Melkinat stepped in front of
Jenny and stood face-to-face with Anka.
To his credit, he did not try to dodge the
issue. "If the Federation leaves, we will have
to man the weapons."
"Never!" she said.
"It is that or perish," Melkinat said
simply.
"Better to die with our principles intact
than to become killers ourselves," Anka said.
"Anka's right!" Yet another member of the
older woman's faction spoke up now. "These
weapons must not stay here!"
Jenny shouted for quiet, but few of the
Tenarans could hear her over their own noise.
Several did turn their attention her way,
though, their faces red and their fists raised.
Suddenly Jenny realized these peaceful people were
just as capable of violence as anyone else. It
was just a matter of finding the right trigger--and she
seemed to have found it.
With outward calm she raised her hand slowly
to the communicator contained in the insignia on
her chest. But then she stopped. The Tenarans were
looking at each other, trying to
draw the
courage to make the first irretrievable move.
The air was electric with tension, with the
potential of violence. Jenny feared that her
call to the Enterprise to beam her up would
trigger it. She might get hurt--or lose
control and hurt some of the Tenarans.
And then came the familiar sound of a
transporter. The open space around Jenny
began to fill with gold-shirted security
troops. The Tenarans scuttled backward.
Jenny sighed in relief and dropped her
hand. How did the Enterprise know I
needed help?
And then something odd struck her about this
security force in addition to the normal
equipment, each one wore a short sword at
his waist. Why, they're Magna Romana!
They aren't from the Enterprise at all.
They're from the Centurion.
A stocky figure pushed his way through the
security cordon to her side. "Are you all
right, Jenny?"
She laughed. "Just fine, Gaius. The
Roman cavalry arrived in the nick of time."
Gaius Aldus smiled in return.
"Romans have always believed in
punctuality."
The Tenarans had retreated still further while
Jenny and Gaius Aldus spoke. Now they
were gathered in a group at a distance, acting like
small children aware of their guilt. Melkinat
approached the watchful Magna Roman force
hesitantly.
"It's all right," Jenny called out.
"Let them through."
The security forces parted, forming a
corridor through which the two Tenarans walked
nervously, their eyes flicking from side
to side. Jenny waited for them without
expression.
Melkinat licked his lips and said,
"Ensign, I can't tell you how sorry I
am that this happened."
"I know you are," Jenny said. "Melkinat,
take your people back to Zhelnogra. I'm
sure Captain Picard will be in contact with
you."
Gaius Aldus gestured, and the security
troops parted again for Melkinat to pass through.
Jenny and Gaius could see Melkinat
talking to the other Tenarans earnestly. The
group gestured frequently toward the Magna
Roman security force, then broke up and
headed back toward the handful of old ground
vehicles into which they had crowded for the long trip
from Zhelnogra. They jammed themselves back
into the vehicles and began the trip home.
Jenny hesitated, then gestured for Gaius
to walk a short distance away with her. When she
was sure they were out of earshot of the others, she said