POWER HUNGRY

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POWER HUNGRY Page 20

by Howard Weinstein


  Picard rose and paced the bridge’s front perimeter. “Data, do a full sensor scan of Sanctuary Canyon. Apparently that was Undrun’s destination. Use his communicator signal as a focal point. Pinpoint where he is, who is with him, and how many Thiopans are there.”

  With his accustomed efficiency, Data quickly completed the task. At Picard’s request, he displayed his results on the main viewer, overlaid on a map of the canyon.

  Thiopa’s haze-bordered face was replaced by a green-lined cartography grid. The computer put up a two-dimensional aerial image of the canyon, clearly showing the narrow gulch that was the only route in, the central bowl of the canyon itself, the ledge on which the Stone City perched, and all of the surrounding ridges and peaks. Data tapped a command into his terminal and a few hundred tiny blue dots appeared in and around the canyon, with so many concentrated in the Stone City that they joined together to form a splotch. Then a single red dot flashed in the heart of the blue patch.

  “Explanation, Mr. Data?” said Picard mildly, standing just to the side of the viewer.

  “The blue dots represent individual Thiopans, based on sensor readings of their life signs. There are three hundred seventy-nine Thiopans in the vicinity of the canyon.”

  “How many in this area?” Picard asked, pointing to the concentration of blue.

  “Three hundred three, sir. That is the residential section the Sojourners call the Stone City.”

  “And the red spot?”

  “Ambassador Undrun.”

  “Any sign of Commander Riker in that immediate area?”

  Data shook his head. “No, sir.”

  “Captain,” said Worf, “I believe it’s feasible to beam in there with a security team.”

  “Need I remind you,” Picard said sternly, “that these people evidently have advanced weapons? And that they appear to be quite capable of using them, in view of the fact they’ve managed to hold off opponents who greatly outnumber them?”

  “I’m aware of that, sir, but we would have the element of surprise on our side. With phasers on stun, we would be able to initiate preemptive action if necessary.”

  “Beam in with phasers blazing, Mr. Worf?” asked Picard. “What would be the purpose of such a strategy?”

  “To secure the position, rescue the ambassador, and use the area as a base camp from which to continue the search for Commander Riker.”

  “Opinions?” said Picard, glancing at Data and inviting comment with an arch of his eyebrows.

  “To rescue Ambassador Undrun,” Data said, “we merely have to lock onto his communicator monitor signal and beam him up. It is doubtful whether we could in fact secure the position because of the nature of the terrain. It is likely that many hiding places are available to natives who are familiar with the location. Our weapons will be on non-lethal settings, but theirs probably will not. The Sojourners would consider us invaders, and the risk of serious casualties to our away team appears to be unacceptable when compared to what might be gained.”

  The captain turned back to Worf. “Wouldn’t you say the sudden arrival of a large armed force verges on the confrontational, Mr. Worf?”

  “Yes, sir,” came the reluctant answer. “Shall I beam the ambassador up?”

  Picard returned to his seat. “Not just yet. It was his idea, however foolish, to beam himself down. The fact that he’s still alive indicates he has at least piqued the Sojourners’ curiosity. Open a channel.”

  “Channel open, sir,” Worf said.

  “Let’s give them a call. Enterprise to Ambassador Undrun . . .”

  Lessandra and the others stared at the fettered diplomat. The voice again issued from inside his clothing. “Enterprise to Ambassador Undrun.”

  “Answer,” Lessandra ordered.

  “I can’t. I have to activate the communicator. It’s pinned to my shirt.”

  “Durren, get it out.”

  Durren tugged the jacket open and found the emblem on Undrun’s chest. He took it out and held it up. “Well . . .?”

  “Tap the front,” Undrun said.

  Lieutenant White looked across the bridge at Captain Picard. “The communicator’s not on Undrun anymore. I’m getting unfamiliar readings.”

  Data’s long fingers danced across his computer keypad. “Thiopan, Captain.”

  “Undrun here, Captain Picard,” said the voice from the bridge speaker.

  “Mr. Ambassador,” Picard said in a frigid tone, “I was quite surprised to find out you were not on my ship this morning. Would you care to explain?”

  “I have valid authorization to pursue all avenues available to me to complete my assignment.”

  “And did this particular avenue bear fruit?” Picard bristled at the return of Undrun’s imperious attitude.

  “Uh, no, not exactly.” The arrogance was gone. “Fact is, I could use some help, Captain.”

  “Are you in any danger?”

  There was a moment’s hesitation. “No, not really.”

  “Then you don’t want us to beam you up? We can do that. We have your location pinpointed.”

  “No . . .”

  “Very well. Are the leaders of the Sojourners there with you?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “What exactly is your status, Mr. Undrun?”

  “I—uh—I’m a guest of the Sojourners.”

  “You’re in no danger?”

  “I’d say not, Captain.” Undrun looked down at his shackled feet. “But I’m not exactly free to go.”

  “Who is in charge down there?” Picard asked.

  “That would be Lessandra.”

  “I would like to speak to her, if that’s possible.”

  Undrun looked her directly in the eye. “Is that possible?”

  “What do I do?” she asked.

  “Just talk.”

  “Captain Picard,” she called, “this is Lessandra.”

  “I’ve gathered from Ambassador Undrun’s diplomatic language that he is in fact a prisoner in your custody. I would like to point out that—as foolhardy as he may have been to beam down alone, without telling me or anyone on this ship—he has just displayed considerable courage. You are aware he could have asked us to transport him out of there just now and we could have done so before you could have harmed him in any way.”

  “I figured that, Captain.”

  “But he didn’t. I hope you’ll take that as a signal of his serious intent. He truly does want to help you.”

  “I’ll consider that possibility.”

  “We know that your part of the planet has been most seriously affected by this drought. That means you’re the people who would benefit most from the emergency supplies the Enterprise has brought.”

  “Captain Picard,” said Lessandra, “I think you’re already well aware of the political situation down here.”

  “We’ve been getting a rapid education.”

  “Then you know Stross will do whatever he can to prevent any of your aid from reaching our people. His goal is to absorb us through Fusion—or to eliminate us through murder or starvation. We don’t plan to let him do either one. We know this land. If Stross sends a military force to defeat us, we will scatter like sand to the winds, then regroup and strike like a savage storm when the time is right. They may try to starve us, but we know the whole world is suffering from the same climate changes. And no one on Thiopa is better suited to survive such a disaster than we Sojourners.”

  “But, Lessandra, there are other choices besides apocalypse.”

  “Are there? This mediation your Commander Riker talked about . . .?”

  “Yes. Riker told you the truth. We can’t force your government to change, but we can try to bring the two sides together to negotiate for your mutual survival.”

  “What’s in it for you?”

  “Nothing. Such mediation is part of the mission of this vessel.”

  “Riker said you wouldn’t bargain for his release. Is that true?”

  “Yes, it is.”
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br />   “If we give Riker back, why would you bother to help us?”

  “Because the Federation believes very deeply in the right of all life-forms to choose the way they wish to live, free from domination by anyone else. Can you return Commander Riker to us?”

  “We don’t have him.”

  “But you know who does?”

  “Maybe—maybe not.”

  “What would we have to do in order for you to help us get Riker back safely?”

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t bargain.”

  “Maybe what you ask is something I can provide.”

  Lessandra considered her choices. “Come down here and talk to us.”

  Picard raised one eyebrow. “For what purpose?”

  “To prove you mean what you say. I guarantee your safety. As you pointed out, your ship can transport you away in a second. But I don’t think you care enough about us to—”

  “I’ll be down in a few minutes,” Picard said in an unruffled tone.

  “With an armed party, I’ll wager,” Lessandra goaded.

  “Alone and unarmed.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “Then you’ll believe it very shortly. Please stay where you are. We’ll use these coordinates. Picard out.”

  Picard saw all his bridge crew staring at him, including Counselor Troi, who had entered quietly during his conversation with Lessandra. Worf was the first one to voice his dissent.

  “Sir, as your security chief, I urge you to reconsider. If they’re lying, they could injure or kill you before we could beam you out of trouble.”

  “Mr. Worf, I evidently have greater confidence in your reflexes than you do.”

  “Commander Riker would not permit you to beam down into a situation with so many unknowns, sir,” Data pointed out.

  “And as my senior tactical officer in his absence, you are required to state your opinion as he would if he were here.”

  “That is correct, sir.”

  “But the fact is, he’s not here,” Picard pointed out. “I believe the Sojourners have a damned good idea where he is. And, as captain, the final decision is mine. Counselor Troi, it’s your turn to suggest I reconsider.”

  “There is risk involved, but your position as captain entails some risk. I sensed that Lessandra is wary of our presence. She doubts that we can really do anything to mediate the Thiopan conflict . . . but she seems to be sincere about guaranteeing your safety.”

  Picard nodded. “Thank you all for your thoughts. I’ve got a promise to keep.” He headed for the aft turbolift, pausing at the open doors. “Keep your eye on my monitor channel, Lieutenant Worf. Should anything go awry, my fate is in your hands.” With a confident smile, he left the bridge.

  “What are you going to say to him?” Glin demanded of Lessandra.

  The older woman remained enigmatic. “I’m going to see what he has to say to me—if he comes.”

  “He will come,” Undrun said. He was now sitting on a stone bench. “If he said he would beam down, he will do so.”

  Any further debate ended with the hum and shimmer of a transporter beam taking shape a few yards away. Once materialized, Picard strode directly to Lessandra, greeting her by name. “I hope our dealings will be fruitful,” he said.

  “I doubt that’s possible, Captain.”

  “Would you cut Ambassador Undrun loose?”

  Lessandra nodded toward Mikken, who used his knife blade to slit the ropes around Undrun’s wrists and ankles. The little envoy thankfully rubbed the places where the bonds had been, trying to restore normal circulation.

  “Thank you, Lessandra,” Picard said, his voice resonating with an arresting combination of calmness and authority. “I take that as a sign of good faith, and would like to offer you a similar sign in return.”

  Lessandra limped closer. “And what would that be?”

  “A small shipment of food and medicine.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Her tone was skeptical. “And I suppose you’ll expect another gesture in kind?”

  Picard’s gaze held steady, eye to eye with this small woman who wielded outsized influence over the future of her planet. “I expect nothing. I don’t believe in quid pro quos.”

  He knew the only way to establish any level of trust at all was to proceed one tiny step at a time, each one building on the one before. There were currents in such encounters, and the Enterprise captain obviously had the sensitivity to discern them, to know when to remain anchored and when to follow the tide. It was a skill of which Undrun believed himself totally devoid, an instinct he simply didn’t have.

  “Well, then, let’s see your good faith, Captain,” Lessandra said.

  Picard touched his Starfleet emblem. “Commander Data . . .”

  “Data, sir.”

  “I would like you to beam down one ton of grain, one ton of seeds, and one hundred kilograms of medical supplies—to these coordinates.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Picard, Undrun, and perhaps two dozen Sojourners waited. Undrun had observed the entire exchange without a word, admiring Picard’s adroit application of the most fundamental principles of diplomacy. I think I misjudged this man, and if we get out of this, if I have one honorable bone in my body, I should tell him that. Thirty seconds later, the crates materialized nearby.

  “Thank you, Data. Stand by for further instructions.” Picard watched as several Sojourners approached the containers, wonder on their faces. “If you’d like to check the contents, Lessandra . . .”

  “That won’t be necessary, Captain,” she said from behind a mask of detachment. Then she fell silent.

  Glin and Jaminaw scuttled up behind her, one on either side. “Tell him where to find his first officer,” Glin hissed.

  “Tell him,” Jaminaw echoed. “You have to . . .”

  But the old woman’s expression didn’t waver. Neither did Picard’s. They were as stolid as two poker players with unknowable hands, playing for the highest of stakes. When the interval of silence had stretched long enough for the next move to seem like her idea and hers alone, Lessandra spoke.

  “No guarantee on this, mind you, but we know who took Riker, and we have a pretty fair notion of where they’re headed.”

  “Can you take us there?”

  She shook her head. “We can’t catch them on foot or by ealix. But you could beam over there in a wink.” She crooked a finger at Durren. “Map . . .”

  Durren obediently unfolded a well-worn map and spread it on the stone bench next to Undrun. Lessandra’s gnarled hand hovered over the paper. Then a fingertip landed on a spot near foothills to the west of the canyon. “That’s their likely destination. By now they may even have reached it.”

  “What is there?”

  “A communications installation,” Glin said, “capable of reaching ships in planet orbit. The government used to use it to contact Nuaran ships making pickups at the mines out there.”

  “The people holding Riker—who were they going to call?” asked Picard.

  “You,” Glin said. “And it’s just one person who’s got him—a girl with a lot of determination to get some answers.”

  “Answers to what questions?”

  Glin sighed. “Better if you ask her when you find her, Captain. I don’t think any of us can speak for her.”

  “Picard to Enterprise,” he said activating his communicator again.

  Data answered. “Standing by for your orders, sir.”

  The captain had a tricorder slung over his shoulder. He opened it and held it over the map. “Are you receiving my visual signal, Data?”

  “Affirmative, sir. It correlates closely with our orbital charts.”

  “Good. Calculate the coordinates of the cross near the Sternian Foothills, as it appears on this map.”

  “Calculated, sir.”

  “We need an immediate sensor sweep of that area.”

  “What are we looking for?”

  “Commander Riker, and one Thiopan life-form.


  “That should not be hard to find,” Data said.

  “Good. Make it so, Mr. Data. Inform me when you’ve found something. Picard out.” He turned to Lessandra. “I’m willing to beam down more food and supplies, but I want it to go to the people who need it the most.”

  “That would be the population center of the Endrayan Realm, Captain. The town of Crossroads. That’s where most of the refugees from the dried-up farmlands are going.”

  “Is there a workable government structure there?”

  “Durren,” Lessandra said, “you were there last. What’s going on in Crossroads?”

  He shook his head sadly. “The local government is crumbling.”

  “Do you have people there who could see that these supplies get fairly distributed?” Picard asked.

  “Yes,” said Lessandra. “We can do that.”

  “Fine. As soon as my first officer is safe and sound, I shall transport twenty percent of our total cargo to whatever location you designate.”

  Undrun rose and hobbled over. “Captain Picard, what you’re doing is highly irregular and . . .”

  “Yes?” Picard’s piercing eyes gave Undrun a probing look.

  “And it seems like the best thing to do for now.” The ambassador smiled. “I concur wholeheartedly with your decision.”

  “I would like you to beam up to the Enterprise, Mr. Ambassador,” Picard said. “I am responsible for your safety, and I believe you could use some nourishment and medical attention. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Undrun responded with a weak nod.

  “Picard to Enterprise . . . Lock onto Ambassador Undrun’s position and prepare to beam him up.”

  “Enterprise,” said Worf’s voice. “Locked on, Captain.”

  “Mr. Ambassador,” Picard said, holding out his hand, “give me your communicator.” But Undrun didn’t have it. Durren did, and he flipped it to Picard, who caught it neatly in his palm, then handed it to Lessandra. “I want you to hold on to this for the time being, in case there’s a need for us to renew this contact. Mr. Worf, ready to transport . . . Energize.” Undrun’s form dissolved into a glittering pillar, then faded out entirely.

 

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