“And the leadership?”
Morrow frowned. “In over their heads, if you ask me.”
“I should think so,” Crusher said. She walked over, and Picard realized he needed to make a round of introductions. When he said Will’s name, Morrow looked shocked but covered it quickly. Picard was pleased to note that his security officer, George Carmona, was alert and assessing their situation. Carmona was an olive-skinned, burly man, recently assigned to the ship. Picard had met him for the first time in the transporter room.
“When was the last time Riker was seen?” the first officer asked. Picard started at hearing him refer to his father so impersonally.
“Not for three days,” Morrow replied. “We were at the quarantine facility, meeting with the local doctors and the test subjects when the attack occurred. Riker ran out after the man and vanished from sight. I’ve been staying with the Council, doing damage control. I have to admit, it’s good to have some backup.”
“Well, hopefully we can do this the easy way.” Picard stepped away from the group, tapped his combadge, and called to Data.
“Mr. Data, scan for all human bio-signs on the planet. Screen out the away team and Ambassador Morrow. Logic suggests the remaining signal should be Kyle Riker. We can then beam him aboard.”
“Just one moment, Captain,” Data replied.
The captain and Riker exchanged glances as they waited patiently. After a minute, Data’s voice once more filled the air.
“I am sorry, Captain, but there are no other bio-signs.”
“The hard way it is, then,” Picard sighed. “A man like him knows a hundred ways to avoid detection.”
“I would assume so,” Data replied. “Kyle Riker’s work as a strategist would give him access to highly sophisticated equipment for his field work.”
“Thank you, Data. Picard out.”
“Terrific. I guess I’ll start there and see if I can pick up the trail,” Riker said.
“The planetary protocol officer is ready to act as your guide,” Morrow explained. “He’s waiting for us in the Council chamber.” He led the away team from the dim office into a broad, low-ceilinged hallway.
They stopped before an unimpressive doorway with yellow block lettering above it. In Federation Standard it read COUNCIL CHAMBER. To Picard’s mind, there was a distinctive lack of pomp and circumstance here—even the most modest of governments usually treated their leaders with a higher level of respect than they did common shopkeepers. He filed the notion away, straightened his jacket, and prepared for the worst.
Inside the square chamber was a semicircular raised platform with a metal table where the councillors sat. At a smaller table directly before the platform, there were five seats, which appeared to be set aside for administrative staff. Opposite were rows of low benches for representatives, and a roped-off area that Picard assumed was a visitors gallery. Not surprisingly, the chamber was filled with viewscreens and computer terminals, most of which depicted images of the planet.
On the other hand, the room was also filled with an almost oppressive silence. Although he couldn’t say he missed the screaming matches he had witnessed on other planets in crisis, the low level of activity here was unnerving in its own way. Of course, an atmosphere of calm, if that’s what it was, would prove helpful. On the other hand, Picard thought, the councillors might simply be in shock, paralyzed at the mere thought of violence on a planet that had been peaceful for so long. And paralysis didn’t bode well for the mission.
On the right side of the metal table sat tall, thin people with elegant three-fingered hands. These were the Dorset, known as the artisans of the planet, but clearly they had not practiced their craft here in this Spartan chamber. There were four people on the dais, two men and two women, all with elaborate braids in their long, silky-looking hair. The men were lithe and were known as fast runners, while the women were said to be skilled at metallurgy. A handsome people, the captain concluded.
The next four, on the left, were the Bader. They were stockier, similar to Tellarites, and had tremendous strength. A blunt-spoken people, they were not known for high cultural achievement. Rather, their fierce work ethic was what distinguished them. They were the builders and armorers on this planet. There were three men and one woman, all with blunter features than their Dorset neighbors, and shorter, coppery hair.
“Councillors, I present to you Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise,” Morrow said, when all eight sets of eyes were on him.
Carefully, Morrow then introduced all eight councillors from memory, an impressive feat given the stress of the day. Jus Renks Jus of the Dorset spoke for the group and welcomed Picard and his people.
“I am sorry you cannot partake in the celebration,” Renks said in soft tones. “We’ve canceled everything.”
“It would have been a wonder,” another man said.
“No doubt,” Picard said. “However, we will do what we can to restore order and help correct whatever has happened. What is the current status?”
Jus Renks Jus stood and gestured toward the left-hand wall. A larger screen showed the planet, with lights winking and changing color. “Our security forces have not managed to find the vehicle the murderer stole, so the trail is, I think you say, cold.”
“And Kyle Riker?”
“We do not know where he might be. But we’d like to find him.”
“Do you truly believe he has something to do with this?”
Renks paused, steepling his hands and considering the response. After a moment he said, “Riker himself, no. He was not close enough to actually contribute to the death.”
“However,” another Dorset said, “he represents the Federation and was glorying in the success of your cure.”
“A cure we must now call into question,” Renks said bluntly.
“I will need to meet with your medical staff and see what I can determine,” Crusher said. “The sooner the better, I would think.”
Picard saw that the other members of the Council were murmuring distractedly among themselves. Morrow was right: these people were out of their element.
Renks continued, “Logically, he and your government must play some part. The Federation, after all, is filled with violent races. You must be accustomed to such heinous acts. We, however, are not. The fact that the murder occurred at this time and in this place confirms my suspicion of the Federation’s core mind-set—everything it touches becomes violent.”
“A brutal culture overall,” sniffed a Bader woman.
Picard tried to see things from their point of view and tried to reconcile that with the Kyle Riker he briefly knew. Riker’s reputation was far from spotless, true, but he had a long list of accomplishments and had earned the Federation’s trust.
“Clearly, there is more we must all learn about his role in these affairs. But first, we need to chart a course of action,” Picard said.
“Yes, you must,” declared a Bader. He stood, his bulk almost dwarfing Renks. If Picard remembered correctly, this was Chkarad, Speaker for the People. “Your government caused this problem, and now you must repair the damage.”
Picard raised an eyebrow in response to the Speaker’s phrasing. If even the leader of this society held the Federation solely responsible for the problem and its solution, then Picard had a long road ahead of him indeed.
“If necessary, we can bring down trained security personnel from the Enterprise to support your people.” Picard parried, deflecting Chkarad’s demand that the Federation take all the blame and expend all the effort. It was never too early to lay the groundwork for cooperation. “But first, we need information. Can Dr. Crusher speak with the medical staff?”
“Of course,” Renks said. “I’ll have one of my staff bring her to the appropriate people. They’re across the campus.” With a gesture, a fellow Dorset rose and led Crusher away.
“And I believe you have someone to help Commander Riker begin the search for his father,” Picard continued.
“Father! I had no idea,” one of the female Dorset said.
“Is this a problem?” Morrow interjected a moment before Picard could speak.
Everyone at the Council table seemed surprised, but no one raised an objection. Finally, Chkarad gestured to another of the staff. “Of course not, Captain. We’ll have our protocol officer escort him to the city where it happened.”
“Thank you,” Picard replied. He knew the away team had just dodged a large problem. As he watched Riker leave the room, he felt Carmona’s presence behind him. Oddly, it gave him comfort.
Chapter Five
RIKER WAS INTRODUCED to Seer of Anann, a man almost as tall as he was but broader and sturdier, and Riker considered himself fairly sturdy. He wore a layered coverall mixing primary colors with muted patterns, only adding to his imposing form. Riker noted he had no visible sidearm, which was appropriate for a protocol man. Seer seemed to be appraising him as well.
“Riker, eh? Any relation?”
“My father,” he replied, inwardly sighing, knowing he’d repeat that phrase a lot in the coming days.
“We’ll take my flyer,” Seer said, leading Riker to an elevator that took them to the roof, which turned out to be a broad parking area for several varieties of aircraft. Before boarding the sleek, bright red-and-gold craft, Riker looked out at the city, taking in the squat buildings. Unimpressive, like the interiors he had seen so far, emphasizing function over design. The city seemed fairly large and was located near the coast, where a number of boats were tied to docking facilities. The placid blue water was empty of vessels. The skies were clear, too.
Inside the flyer were four seats and several storage compartments. Clearly it was built for transportation and not much else. The two men strapped themselves in, and Riker sat back, watching Seer quickly go through his prelaunch sequence and then speak into a mike strapped around his neck.
A series of lights winked on between the two men, and Seer nodded to himself and placed his hands inside the front panel. Whatever flight controls existed were within the panel, and Riker couldn’t tell what Seer was doing. Within seconds, though, he felt the familiar thrum of engines coming to life, and within half a minute they had built up enough power to lift off the ground. Once they were a dozen feet off the roof, Seer swiveled the flyer to the east and activated a thruster. And they were on their way through a cloudless sky.
The two sat in silence for several minutes while Riker took in the countryside. They were skimming over the coast, now headed south, their speed well under mach one, he estimated.
“Fathers can be difficult, can’t they?”
That was an understatement. “Yes, they can,” Riker said, trying his best to maintain a neutral tone.
“Anann isn’t much of a place to live,” Seer went on. “Its a mineral-poor island, so you can’t mine or farm, but there’s plenty of space. We owned a lot of it and couldn’t do much with it. Father had no idea what to do with me, so he sent me off to school and then complained when I went into the diplomatic trade. Haven’t talked to him in five years.”
“I can beat that. It’s been ten for me.”
That earned Riker an appraising look. “Disappointment to him?”
“He said he was proud of me, the last time we really talked,” Riker said, recalling the one time Kyle was on the Enterprise-D.
“Think he meant it?”
“I do,” Riker said, and realized it was true. Kyle had actually been trying to make amends, and Will was being stubborn. Still, it hurt when his father didn’t keep in touch. “At least he did at the moment.”
“Had to work hard to get away from his shadow, Kresla of Anann,” Seer said.
“That how your names work?”
“Sure. For our people, the land of our birth carries great distinction…or not.”
“And the name Seer of Anann?”
“I have risen above my origins,” the protocol officer said quietly. He banked the flyer and started descending. Riker looked out his window and saw a lush green land, ripe for farming, with a small town nearby. Overall, things looked prosperous, and he could see why the planet must have looked promising for colonization.
“Where are we?”
“This continent is Fith, largely populated by the Dorset,” Seer answered, controlling their rate of descent. “They have the best-equipped medical laboratories, so it was easy to adapt a building for the quarantine.”
Riker noted that Seer was an experienced and smooth pilot. In many ways, the man reminded him of Worf, now the Federation ambassador to the Klingon Empire. Poor Worf; Riker had respected the man, but he knew that even he had father issues. For that matter, Data was an android, and even he couldn’t escape conflict with Noonien Soong.
The small flyer landed without much impact. After shutting down the engines and engaging a security device, Seer opened the hatch and let fresh air flood the compartment. Riker breathed deeply, noting the strong scent of the trees that ringed the town.
Stepping outside, he saw that the landing pad also housed four other vehicles, one of which had the insignia of the planetary peace officers, while another had a red symbol that marked it as a medical vehicle. On the opposite side was a gleaming boxlike structure. From its widely spaced windows, he could see that it was three stories tall. The walls were a dull yellow, with no sign-age or markings. Beyond this building were three others, exactly the same except that each was painted a different but equally bland color.
“The pink one is the quarantine building,” Seer explained, gesturing to the building at the extreme left. “I escorted Ambassador Morrow and Mr. Riker there to see the test subjects. It was a day later when the event occurred.”
“Where were you?”
“I wasn’t really needed, so I returned to the Council chamber. Truth to tell, I don’t really like being away from home if I can avoid it,” Seer said.
“Nice when you can just hop aboard and fly away,” Riker admitted.
They had progressed to the pink building’s entrance. Seer withdrew a round, silver-colored disc about the size of his palm and waved it casually near the side of the doors. Some hidden sensor recorded his arrival, and with a loud click, the doors unlocked and swung open.
A tall, broad security officer met them, left hand outstretched. “Identification disc, please,” he said. Riker surmised that like so many others in his field, this man was going to be all business, and that suited him just fine, given the circumstances.
Seer handed over the disc, which the guard slipped inside a handheld device. He then checked a readout, glanced at Seer, and grunted. Returning the disc, he spun on his heel and said, “Follow me.”
They did as instructed and began following him through the halls, which were narrow and uniformly white. Every so often there were doors painted an off-white that left them almost indistinguishable from the walls. The flooring was a royal blue utility tile, worn in the middle, deeper in color along the edges. The hallways were empty and eerily silent.
Riker looked quizzically at his host, but Seer just shrugged. Clearly, they were both unimpressed by the esthetics of the medical facility.
Finally, the guard stopped at a door, the only one with a marking on it. A bright orange circular sticker bearing the peace officer insignia was affixed to it. The guard pushed the door open with his palm and ushered the men inside. He didn’t follow them in.
The lab inside was cluttered. The usual assortment of equipment was present, set in walls, atop tables, and even on the floor. Paper charts were haphazardly tacked to two of the walls, while a third wall held a bank of monitor screens of various sizes. The fourth wall was taken up by a huge picture window that looked out over a field of overgrown grass. A set of portable force-field generators blocked off a huge section of the floor space near a diagnostic bed. Red pins with yellow flags delineated an area near the center of the space. Riker presumed that this was where the deceased was found.
Footsteps approached from the hallway. Both men
gave a start and swung around. The door opened and a Bader doctor walked into the room.
“Smada of Tregor, director of this facility,” he said.
The men introduced themselves, and then Seer asked about the murder.
The man, somewhat older than Seer, judging by his lined face, sighed and took a seat by one of the tables. He gestured for the others to sit, but only Riker accepted the offer.
“We had turned five offices into living quarters, filled with monitoring equipment as well as recreational devices,” he began in a raspy voice. “The plan was to keep the subjects under observation at least a year, taking height, weight, and blood measurements daily. We let them slowly resume an unrestricted eating routine and gave them freedom to roam the building. Because of safety protocols, everyone else here remained in clean suits, and we ourselves were checked weekly.
“After eight months, we saw absolutely nothing in the subjects’ vital statistics to make us believe anything was wrong. Their blood was checked at the microcellular level, we analyzed their breathing, even checked eggs and sperm. Nothing led us to believe they were ill. In fact, they remained statistically healthier than average for Bader and Dorset from this world.
“We agreed to release them a little early, making them available to appear at centennial functions as a symbol of our progress—with the help of the great Federation. Or so the Council announced.” With that, Smada looked sharply at Seer, who calmly met the gaze.
“Members of the Federation wanted to come and meet with the five prior to their reintroduction to the world. You brought them here and left. We hosted an elaborate dinner for the visitors, and it was the first time any of us dealt with the subjects without our clean suits. After all, they were to be released the next day. What harm could there be?
“The following morning, we had everything together for a final review of the itinerary—in this room as a matter of fact—including the first event, which was to be a press conference. Suddenly there was an argument between two of the subjects, and before we knew it, one killed the other and ran out the door.”
A Time to Love Page 5