Nightshade

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  Both men smiled. Picard wondered how much fighting had gone into even that short speech. He came forward, motioning his own guards back with an impatient hand.

  “If you will be so kind as to get a cup, Ambassador,” Basha said.

  Picard did, vowing not to throw the cup away after he had used it only once. He held the cup under the spigot. Alick turned a small handle, and steaming liquid poured into the cup.

  Picard raised the cup near his face. One whiff and he felt better instantly. The warm, rich smell alone was comforting. He smiled broadly, “Earl Grey tea. I am impressed, gentleman, at your knowledge of my habits and your willingness to cooperate with one another.”

  Basha and Alick exchanged glances. Alick motioned Basha to speak first. Basha bowed to acknowledge it. “Ambassador Picard, we are learning that perhaps there are worse things than working together.”

  Alick smiled. “Well said.”

  Picard breathed in the sweet steam of tea and hid his amazement. They were being civil to each other. This dinner was only the preliminaries. The real peace talks began after dinner, when darkness fell. It was an Orianian custom to negotiate at night when conditions for fighting were not ideal.

  “I am most gratified,” Picard said. “And please join me in a cup of tea. Let it symbolize the beginnings of working through our difficulties together without violence.”

  Basha whispered, “You were not there when we had to decide who spoke first. There was almost violence.”

  Alick grinned almost sheepishly.

  “Almost is a beginning,” Picard said.

  They helped themselves to cups, and when all three had a steaming, brownish-green cup of tea, Picard held his cup aloft. “My people have a custom called a toast. It is to celebrate any great and happy occasion. I propose a toast to the bravery of General Basha and General Alick, the bravery of all the Torlick and Venturi. It often takes more bravery to talk peace than to fight. To peace and prosperity for this planet.” Picard bowed to the two leaders and took a drink. After a moment’s hesitation, many in the room with cups followed his example.

  “You will have to explain to me this thing called a toast more fully later, Ambassador,” Alick said. He was standing beside the captain. He was smiling.

  Picard smiled back, and for the first time since he had set foot on Oriana, he felt optimistic about his mission. “I would be happy to tell you more of our customs, General Alick . . .”

  The smile left Alick’s face. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if to clear his vision. One hand grabbed for his chest. “Ambassador. . . I don’t feel . . . Aahh!” He groped as if blind. The cup with its tea fell to the carpet. Picard reached out to the man. Alick’s hand convulsed on Picard’s arm.

  General Alick fell to his knees, dragging Picard with him. “Get a doctor,” Picard yelled. Picard had a sense of people running, frantic movement. He had eyes only for Alick. The man’s heart was beating so loudly that Picard could hear it, pounding like it was trying to come out of his chest.

  Troi was beside him trying to help hold Alick’s convulsing body. Picard stared at her in horror over Alick’s twisting body. The man’s hands clawed at Picard as if begging him to do something. Picard wanted to ask Troi if she heard his heartbeat. It was so loud, louder than his own heartbeat.

  Guards in Venturi red and white pushed Picard and Troi back. They tried to hold Alick’s body still, but his muscles and limbs jumped as if they had separate lives of their own.

  Even pushed back several feet, Picard could still hear the monstrously furious thumping of Alick’s heart. Troi was beside him, one hand on his shoulder. Her black eyes were wide and horror-filled.

  Picard wondered wildly, could she feel the man dying? Could she feel it?

  A woman dressed in orange surgical garb rushed into the room. The convulsions had already quieted. He lay very still.

  “I can’t hear his heart any longer,” Picard said, he didn’t know he’d spoken aloud, until Troi answered, “He’s dead, Captain. He’s dead.” Her voice held such soft horror.

  Picard placed his hand atop hers, giving comfort to the counselor. He was still too numb by the quickness of it all to believe it. Alick had been talking to him, had been fine. What in blazes had happened?

  The doctor chased the Torlick guards back and bent over the still form of General Alick. She checked pulse, respiration, then ran a small scanner over the still form. She looked up at the waiting people, and very clearly in the utter silence of the room her voice carried. “His heart has burst.”

  “What do you mean, his heart has burst?” Basha asked.

  “I am scanning for vital functions. His heart has blown apart. There is no repairing it, or reviving him. He is gone.”

  “He was as healthy as I am,” Basha said.

  “Yes,” another voice said, “but now he’s dead and you’re alive.” It was a Venturi in red and white.

  “What treachery is this?” another voice called.

  Picard pushed himself to his feet. He was so numb his hands tingled. It had all been so sudden. The peace mission was in shambles before it had begun. War was going to break out while he stood helpless. No, there had to be a way. “General Alick wanted peace, believed in it. He gave his life because someone here was more afraid of peace than of war. Would you dishonor General Alick’s memory while he lies barely dead at your feet?”

  The Venturi averted his eyes and could not look directly at Picard. “I want no dishonor on our general.”

  “Good. Then we must continue with the talks as your general would have wished.” Even as Picard said it, he wasn’t sure he believed it was possible. It was only the initial shock and the fact that he seemed to be the only calm person in the room, that was saving everyone from pointing fingers.

  “The ambassador is right,” Basha said, “but, by the dead world, I cannot understand what has happened.”

  The doctor said, “I need to speak with the leaders, please, in private.”

  General Basha looked surprised, then nodded.

  A slender woman in crimson and white stepped forward. “I am the next in command. I will speak for the Venturi now.”

  “Fine. If the ambassador will join us out in the hallway for a moment.”

  Audun stepped forward in his unadorned blue. “This affects us all. As speaker for the Greens, may I be included?”

  “By all means,” Picard said.

  Basha closed his mouth on the words he was about to utter, frowning at Picard. “Of course,” he said finally.

  The leaders and their sentinels followed the doctor out into the hall. For the first time Picard didn’t think all this guarding nonsense was funny. It was almost comforting.

  “Gentle people,” the doctor began, “General Alick was poisoned.”

  “But that’s impossible,” Basha began.

  “I know all precautions were taken, but nevertheless it was poison.”

  “How long ago was it administered,” Picard asked.

  “Minutes, no more. Death was nearly instantaneous.”

  “But we were all standing right there,” Basha protested. “How?”

  “What was the last thing he drank or ate?”

  “Tea,” Troi said.

  “Did any one else drink it?” the doctor asked.

  “Yes,” Basha said, “I did and the ambassador.”

  “Then find General Alick’s cup. It must be that.”

  They trooped back inside and found a nearly silent room. All eyes were on them as they knelt by the two spilled cups of tea. One was Picard’s, one was the dead general’s.

  The doctor pulled a bulky object from one pocket. It had a slender handle and a hand-sized square mounted on the top. Multicolored buttons decorated the square. She touched a button and a faint bluish light pulsed over the cups. The doctor waved the scanner over the cups five times before she sighed and stood up.

  She gathered the four leaders around her. “It was poison in the cup.”

  “What
sort of poison?” Basha asked.

  “It was a plant alkaloid. There are minute bits of plant fiber in the cup. It is not tea leaves.” She shook her head. “The plant fragments contain a thousand times more alkaloid than any naturally occurring plant.”

  “Are you saying,” Basha said, “that it was no natural plant?”

  “I am saying I cannot explain the toxicity of the plant alkaloid in these plant fragments.”

  General Basha turned to Audun. “Does your biotechnology include a process to grow such a poison?”

  Audun pulled himself up to his full height, still not reaching to the general’s shoulder. “There are enough poisons on this planet without growing more.”

  “Answer the question,” Basha said.

  The new Venturi leader was standing very close to Audun. “Yes, Green, answer the question.”

  Audun looked to Picard. He could only nod. “You must answer the question,” Picard said.

  “I do not know the true nature of the doctor’s findings but, yes, we could grow such a plant. But we would not do it. We do not believe in violence.”

  Basha stepped very close to the smaller man. “You did it. You and your peaceful technology.” His words were very quiet, a whispered hiss.

  The new Torlick leader said, “They must pay for what they have done.”

  “Agreed,” Basha said.

  “Nothing has been proved against them, yet,” Picard said.

  “It was a bioengineered plant alkaloid,” Basha said. “Who else would have access to such a thing? No one else has tampered with genetics for over a century.”

  “I do not know. But why would the Greens kill General Alick? What would it gain them?”

  “People who twist the very babes in their mother’s wombs do not have to have a reason,” the Venturi leader said.

  This is absurd, Picard thought, but aloud he said, “You need proof before you can accuse them of murder.”

  Basha was stating at Picard, a look on his face that the captain did not understand. It was like an idea was growing behind his eyes.

  Troi came up beside Picard and put a hand on his arm. “Captain, I must speak with you.”

  “It was you who insisted on the Greens attending this party, Captain Picard. And you were the last person to speak with the Torlick leader.”

  Picard didn’t understand for a moment, then the awful implications hit him. He was too outraged to be frightened. “What are you saying?”

  “He was standing right beside you when he drank poison. The poison was not in the tea, or you and I would be dead. It had to have been administered.”

  “I am a Federation ambassador. What possible motive could I have for poisoning General Alick?” He let the anger at the ridiculousness of the accusations flow into his voice.

  “I do not know,” Basha said, “but we will find out. If it is acceptable with the Venturi leader, we will put Picard and the Greens in one of our cells.”

  The woman nodded. Her face was very grim. “That would be most acceptable. General Alick was so pleased that our two sides were working together on this. Perhaps the general can bring us together to do one more thing.”

  Basha bowed. “I would be honored.”

  “What are they talking about, Captain?” Worf asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Picard said.

  Troi tightened her grip on Picard’s arm. “Captain . . .”

  “Guards!” Basha yelled.

  The new Venturi leader called, “Guards.” The room was suddenly flooded with uniforms. “I arrest the Green delegation and Ambassador Picard for the murder of General Alick.”

  Worf and the three other guards formed up around Picard and Troi. The Orianians that had been assigned to Picard did not hesitate to draw rifles on their fellow Orianians.

  “Wait,” Picard cried. “Wait!” He stepped out from behind Worf’s broad back. “General Basha, Venturi Leader, I had nothing to do with this. I do not believe the Greens did either.”

  “You would say that,” the Venturi leader said.

  Picard looked down at the floor, then quickly up, trying desperately to think of some way out of this. The situation would have been ridiculous except for the corpse lying on the floor. It was absurd that they thought a Federation ambassador could have participated in an assassination, but the faces of the Orianians were grim. They believed it. “Don’t you need proof before arresting a Federation ambassador?”

  “If your guards do not stand down,” Basha said, “we will need no proof whatsoever to kill you all where you stand. This is war, Captain, and this,” he motioned to Alick’s body, “is treason.”

  “We will not resist,” Picard said.

  “Captain, I cannot let them take you,” Worf said.

  “Yes, you can, Lieutenant, and you will.”

  “I am responsible for your safety.”

  “I am still your captain, and you will obey a direct order. Holster your arms, Lieutenant, now!”

  The Klingon frowned down at him, hands clinching and unclinching on his phaser. “Captain, please . . .” The last was said through gritted teeth.

  “No, Worf, we cannot fight our way out of this. We are here on a peace mission. We are trying to show them that violence is not the answer. Fighting now would not help us prove our point. Put up your weapon.”

  Worf gave a long sigh, but put up his phaser. The other guards followed his lead.

  Picard turned back to the waiting leaders. His pulse was a little rapid. Everything was going wrong at a breakneck pace. He could barely keep up with it. “I am ready to go, General. We will not fight this injustice at this time.”

  “Wise of you, Captain, I would hate to explain the deaths of the entire Federation party. As it stands, only you will be executed.”

  Picard said, “Worf, don’t!”

  The Klingon took his hand away from his phaser, but the glare he gave the waiting Orianian guards made them step back, just a bit. “I cannot allow you to be turned over for execution, Captain. Surely, that is a failure of my duty as your bodyguard.”

  Picard fought an urge to smile, but it wasn’t hard to fight. “When will this execution take place?” His voice sounded very calm, normal. Years of practice.

  “In three days, unless proof of your innocence can be found.”

  “I am a mind-healer,” Troi said, “and I can read emotions. The Greens and Captain Picard were as surprised as everyone else when the general fell ill.”

  “I understand loyalty to your leader. There is no shame in that,” Basha said.

  “I am not lying to save the captain. Don’t you want the real murderer found?”

  “You have three days to find proof of another murderer. Unless that proof can be found, your captain and the three Greens will be executed on the evening of the third day.”

  Picard’s eyes widened just a bit, but otherwise he took the news stoically. What else could he do? He turned to Troi. “Counselor, do not worry. You and Lieutenant Worf must simply find the culprit. When there is proof, the executions will be stopped.”

  “Captain . . .”

  “No, I will be fine. We will solve this mystery without violence. Intelligence and peaceful investigation will win out.” He looked at Worf as he said the last. “You are now in charge of this peace mission, Lieutenant Worf. You are the acting Federation ambassador.”

  “But Captain . . .” Worf said.

  “Remember your duties, Ambassador Worf, and remember you represent the entire Federation.”

  Worf drew himself to his full height. “Yes, Captain.”

  Picard looked into Troi’s large dark eyes, and said, “Remind him occasionally, Counselor, that this is a peace mission.” He managed to smile softly at her.

  She smiled back, but her eyes gave her away. “We’ll find the truth, Captain.”

  “I have the utmost confidence in you both.” He turned to the waiting guards. “I am ready to go.”

  The three Greens were already surrounded by people i
n both Torlick and Venturi uniforms, working together to punish the murderers. Perhaps peace was still possible, if they could find the real murderer. Of course, chances were very good that it was one of the warring factions, which would start the war all over again. Would it be better for the peace mission if Picard and the Greens took the blame?

  No. The Greens could save this planet, rebuild it. Even if the fighting stopped, the planet was still dying. There had been too much damage for easy solutions. The Greens had to be included in this peace. That meant they had to be cleared of these charges.

  Picard stood beside Audun, behind a wall of guards. He could see Worf’s head towering above the others in the room. The Klingon was watching him with fierce, dark eyes. Picard wondered what the lieutenant would do if he and the counselor could not find proof. He doubted the Klingon would allow his captain to be executed without a fight. If the Enterprise would hurry back, perhaps there would be other options, but for now they were on their own. Unless the ship returned, it was up to Worf and Troi to find the real murderer and proof enough to convince the two sides.

  He had absolute confidence in Worf and Troi, but all the same he hoped the Enterprise would be returning very soon.

  Chapter Seven

  THE ALIEN VESSEL hung in the blackness of space. It was roughly oval, with one end bulbous, the other ending in a soft point. It was twice the size of the Enterprise, a huge, silver ball, with opaque silver windows decorating much of the ship.

  Commander William Riker sat on the bridge of the Enterprise, staring at the Milgian vessel. Their distress message had stopped abruptly about an hour before. Now, they weren’t moving. “Data, are there life readings on that ship?”

  The android sat at his post, spine rigid. His pale fingers danced over his console. He blinked, then swiveled his chair to glance at Riker. “Yes, Commander.”

  A tightness in Riker’s stomach that he hadn’t known was there, eased. To have come all this way to find a dead ship would have been beyond words. A failed rescue was always one of the worst failures. “How many people left alive?”

  “Over a hundred, sir,” Data said, his voice rising at the end with that small lilt, that was nearly the only inflection the android ever showed.