by David
entire ground floor of the building. The
smaller rooms upstairs, intended as
classrooms, made Marcus feel somewhat
claustrophobic--and struck him as traps if
the locals turned hostile. Down here, with
lots of space around him, he felt closer
to escape at all times. Moreover, he had
commandeered two of the upstairs rooms and, after
having locks installed on the doors, had
filled them with personal items and textbooks
beamed down from the Centurion.
When the boy saw that the Roman was smiling
at him approvingly, he laughed in relief,
and his classmates joined in his slightly
nervous laughter.
"Excellent, Claudius!" Marcus said,
beaming at the class. "Children, you're really working
hard at your lessons. Why, if this were
Magna Roma, you'd all be candidates for
senatorial scholarships." The boys and
girls--all under ten years old--occupying the
rows of desks before him had no idea what a
senatorial scholarship was, but they could tell
that he was complimenting them, and beamed with pride.
They were all intrigued by the idea of being
Magna Roman students. It was a change of
pace from boring, dull, everyday life on
Tenara. One of the girls raised her hand.
Marcus nodded at her. "Yes, Julia?"
Her name was actually Yoolka, but in the
classroom each child used a Roman name
assigned by Marcus. The boy he had called
Claudius was really named Klamnin.
Yoolka said, "Magister, you promised that
today you'd tell us all about the conquest of
Africa."
"So I did, Julia. Yes
... an exciting part of Magna Roman
history, full of the heroic deeds of great men.
It's also a period of our history that greatly
influenced the centralized form of our government.
It took less than a hundred years to add
that entire continent to the empire, but the roots
of the conquest were sown far back in Roman
history, so let's begin with the fall of
Carthage. Remember what I told you about the
Punic Wars? ... Good." Before he could
continue, Marcus became aware that the children's
attention had been diverted by something behind him.
He jumped to his feet and turned.
A woman in native costume stood in the
doorway of the classroom. She was tall, with a
strong, intelligent face.
She was also quite beautiful.
Marcus raised his eyebrows questioningly at
her.
"Please pardon my intrusion," she said
without a trace of apology in her voice.
"You're from Starfleet, aren't you?"
"Quite correct. I'm Marcus Julius
Volcinius."
"Gretna Melkinata," she said, bowing.
She locked eyes with Marcus. "I'm here with
some of the Enterprise crew."
"Oh?" Marcus said.
"Yes, we're surveying the needs of the
local populace throughout this valley." She
stared directly at him. "Forgive my
bluntness, but what exactly are you doing here?"
"He's teaching us about Rome!" one of the children
shouted out.
Marcus gestured expansively. "I was
sharing some of Magna Roma's rich history with
my new pupils."
"I see. Your pupils. And where are their
regular teachers?" she asked evenly.
"In the valley, joining their comrades in
farming while I broaden these children's
horizons. It's part of our
cultural-exchange program."
Gretna nodded. "And who has authorized
this program?"
Marcus closed the distance between them and spoke
quietly. "I understand your concern, but I
assure you that I am operating on the highest
authority."
"Really?"
Marcus nodded. "Perhaps you would like to return
this evening and discuss our plans for the exchange
program and the additions to the curriculum.
I'd be happy to show you my authorization
papers as well, but now I'm afraid that I
must return to my students."
"Of course," Gretna answered with a tight
smile as she turned to go. "Tonight, then."
She left, and Marcus quickly finished the
lessons for the day. After the last of the children was
gone, he headed for the building's stairway.
On the upper floor, Marcus stopped in
front of one of the heavy wooden doors. A
flat male computer voice said, "Nomen."
"Marcus Julius Volcinius."
"Confirmatus."
The lock clicked, and Marcus pushed the
door open. His ancestors would have thought the
whole process wondrous. To Marcus, used
to doors that slid aside for him, the need
to actually push on the door so that it swung on
its primitive hinges was a chore that seemed a
worse burden every time he did it.
Once inside, he pushed the door shut,
listened for the click of the lock engaging, and then
turned to the small communications viewscreen
on a wooden table in the center of the room.
Gretna Melkinata's inquiries
presented him with no small problem, one that could
possibly affect all his plans here ... and
elsewhere.
Chapter Seven
It was barely an hour after sunset, and already
the entire village was dark, its streets
deserted. The only flash of color in the sky
came from the stars above--and the flicker of the
schoolhouse lights ahead of her.
People went to sleep early on Tenara. Not
surprising, since most of them spent the day
hard at work and had to be up at the crack of
dawn for another day of backbreaking physical
labor.
Except for father and me, Gretna
Melkinata thought. Two bureaucrats on
a planet full of farmers.
As a little girl, she remembered staying up
to the wee hours watching her father work, reading,
writing, preparing legislation and speeches. As
she grew older, he had let her help, even
occasionally talked through his ideas with her,
especially after her mother had died. It was a kind
of talk that few people on Tenara were interested in,
except for other old men.
So she had been greatly pleased to discover
politics was a topic Will Riker knew and
enjoyed.
"Part of the job," he'd told Gretna
last night, over dinner around a campfire,
their unsettling experience at Carda several
hours b ehind them. "After all, we're the first
Federation representatives that many worlds meet.
And the leaders of those worlds, if they want to join
the Federation, want to know how their own governments
will be affected by membership."
"You're the only person my age I've
met who likes to talk about these things,"
Gretna said.
"Oh, I can't believe that."
; "It's true!" Gretna said. She pulled
the vegetables she'd been cooking out of the fire
and set them aside to cool. "I can remember
going to school, back when the Federation first came
here, and trying to talk about these things with the others.
They avoided me like I was crazy," she said.
"The boys avoided you?" Will asked, a
glint in his eye.
She couldn't help but smile. "Well ...
they didn't necessarily want to talk."
"That, I can believe."
Gretna shrugged. "Maybe it was that I just
knew so much more about it than any of them, since
my father was in charge of the committee
to restructure the government."
Will took a hunk of bread out of his
carrysack, broke off a piece, and began
to chew on it thoughtfully. "I didn't know that."
Gretna nodded. "The whole idea of the
saavtas was his. He wanted to preserve the
independence of the smaller communities and still have a
governmental body powerful enough to make decisions
for the whole planet."
"That's always the problem," Will said. "How
powerful can you let the central government become
before it loses touch with the people and becomes a
dictatorship?"
Gretna reached into her knapsack and pulled
out a canteen. "Some jhafre?"
Will nodded. "Sure."
"How did you settle that on your home
planet?" she asked, handing him the canteen.
"Well ... I can't say that we did
settle it," Will said. "The whole question became
obsolete, in a way, because technology
helped us outgrow the need for that kind of
government. I, for one, have always agreed with
Rousseau--one of our philosophers--who said
true democracy and a large central
government were irreconcilable goals." He
took a swig out of the canteen and made a
face. "What is this stuff?"
"Jhafre--ale."
"Ale? You mean it's got alcohol in it?
Real alcohol?"
Gretna nodded, slightly confused. "Of
course. What else?"
Will shook his head. "Never mind. I'm going
to regret this in the morning, but"--he took a
long swallow--"at least it's better than that
Magna Roman appetizer."
Gretna looked at him questioningly, so he
told her about the banquet aboard the
Centurion.
She thought for a moment before speaking again. "What
about the Magna Romans?" she asked. "How
did they solve the problem--reconciling a
democracy with a large central government?"
Will stared at her. "Did I ever tell you
how perceptive you are for a naive Tenaran
girl?"
"Yes." She took the canteen back from
him. "Now answer the question."
"I'm not sure the Magna Romans," Will
said, speaking carefully, "ever solved that problem
either--until the Federation solved it for them."
The next day, thinking about his answer,
Gretna shuddered. What, exactly, was
Marcus Julius teaching the schoolchildren here? And
how high up did his authorization go?
Suddenly she wished Will was with her now--he'd
get some straight answers out of the Magna
Roman. But he'd taken the other
agronomists from the Enterprise on a
survey expedition this morning, and wasn't due
to rendezvous with her until early tomorrow.
And besides, what if Will already knew what
Marcus was up to? She didn't want
to believe that, but for her planet's sake, she
couldn't let her personal feelings for him get
in the way of facts. He is part of the
Federation, as are the Magna Romans.
"Gretna."
The voice, coming from beside her, was so
unexpected that she almost jumped out of her skin.
She turned, and Marcus Julius
Volcinius was standing there, smiling.
"Sorry if I frightened you." He moved
around in front of her. "I was just on my way
back from the village and thought I saw you standing
out here."
Marcus was now dressed in a maroon
Starfleet uniform, identical to the one Will had
been wearing when she first met him. He was a good
half-foot shorter than she, and somehow that
made her initial shock easier to overcome.
"I'm not frightened," Gretna said, "I'm
angry. I want to know what you're doing with the
children in there." She jerked a thumb back toward
the schoolhouse.
"Of course," Marcus said smoothly.
"I'd be happy to explain--or more
precisely, someone else will."
"I warn you, I'm in no mood for games,
Marcus Julius."
Marcus shook his head. "This is no game.
I need to take you to where the decision to undertake
the program was made--and to the people who decided
to make it."
Gretna eyed the Magna Roman
dubiously. Was he trying to trap
her? To get her somewhere out of the way and kill
her? No, she decided. He's crafty enough for
it, but too many people know where I am.
"All right," she said. "I'll be interested
to see who among you thinks he has the power
to make this decision."
Marcus smiled. "You are familiar with the
transporter?"
She nodded. "I've never actually used
one, but--"
"We need it to get where we're going."
Marcus touched the insignia on his chest.
"Centurion, this is Marcus Julius.
Ready to transport."
He lowered his hand and smiled at her.
"Relax. This won't hurt a bit."
Gretna stood stock-still for a moment, then
felt a strange tingling in her body. She
felt faintly sick, and then ...
They were standing in the Central Council
Chamber, back in the Tenaran capital city
of Zhelnogra.
She looked around in surprise. "What are
we doing here?"
"You've come to see us."
She spun at the sound of the new voice.
Another man in Starfleet uniform was standing
there smiling at her.
"You remember Captain Sejanus."
Marcus nodded. "And of course ..."
Another figure stepped out of the shadows.
"... Captain Picard of the
Enterprise."
Gretna nodded, too surprised to speak.
If Picard knew what was going on, then Will
knew. She felt like a fool.
"All right," she said angrily. "Tell
me why you three think you have the right to interfere in
our affairs--in the education of our children. And
make it good," she said, crossing her arms, "so
I can tell my father."
"Your father already knows."
Gretna spun, unable to believe her ears.
Melkinat stood there smiling at her.
"Daughter," he said, "I am glad to see
you."
"Father!" Gretna rushed to him, and threw
herself into his arms. "What are you doing here?"<
br />
"Captain Sejanus asked me to come, child."
She took a step back, holding
him at arm's length. "Then you know what this man
is doing, what he's teaching?"
Melkinat nodded. "Marcus' program is
the only way to save our planet from the
M'dok, daughter. Once the Federation leaves
..."
Gretna's head was spinning; how could this be
real?
"No," she said weakly.
"Once the Federation leaves," Melkinat
continued, "we will have to be strong, to be able
to defend ourselves."
Over Melkinat's shoulder she could see
Marcus smiling at her.
"Why didn't you tell me about this?"
"I'm sorry--I should have. But I feared you
would tell the others--Anka and her group--and
we would lose this chance to educate our people. And,"
he said, bowing his head, "I feared you would think
less of me for not consulting with you. But I know
I'm right."
She shook her head, barely aware that
Picard was now speaking.
"It's a program designed to make your people
self-sufficient, Gretna. Marcus is an
excellent teacher."
Melkinat took his daughter's arms.
"Forgive me ... please."
She twisted free. "I cannot believe this."
She turned to Marcus. "I want to get out of
here. Now."
"As you wish," the Magna Roman said.
He tapped his communicator insignia.
"Centurion."
"Centurion here, sir."
"Beam the chairman's daughter back to our
original coordinates."
"Aye, sir."
Gretna bit her lip and turned back
to her father. "I need some time to think."
"Promise me you won't do anything rash,
child." He looked at her again. "I love you."
She nodded weakly--and then she was gone.
Marcus laughed. ""I love you,"" he
said, mimicking the chairman's voice. "Now,
that was a nice touch."
"Thank you," Melkinat said stiffly.
"And you," Marcus said, turning to Picard.
"I thank you for the recommendation. "Marcus
is an excellent teacher"--indeed."
Picard stood motionless. "I was happy
to be of help."
"You were exceedingly helpful." Marcus
nodded. "Simulation end."
The forms of Melkinat and Captain Picard
faded and disappeared. The outlines of the council
chamber wavered, and suddenly Marcus was standing in
the Centurion's holodeck chamber.
Sejanus laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Well-played, cousin. Well-played. That
should keep the girl quiet until tomorrow, which will be