Boogeymen - Mel Gilden [9]
Tantamon IV turned placidly below them for a few seconds. Worf said, “I have Professor Baldwin.”
“On screen,” said Riker.
The picture on the viewscreen was replaced by a steamy planetary scene. Baldwin, ever the showman as well as the scientist, stood in such a way that Picard and the others on the bridge could see a silver teardrop shape lying in the humid alien jungle behind him. Next to him stood an alien. Based on what Picard had seen in preliminary reports, he assumed it was one of the Tantamon natives.
The jungle was recognizable as such, steamy and dense, but unlike the wild earthly jungle growth that was mostly vertical, the Tantamon jungle seemed to be mostly horizontal, made entirely of bowls of various sizes, shapes, and colors. Buggy eyes looked over the rims from inside some of the larger ones. Above each buggy eye was a bright blue cranium.
The alien standing next to Baldwin was probably typical of his race. He—if human sexes meant anything—was on the edge of being human. He had tiny bowls for ears and a shiny blue exoskeleton, which gave him a faintly insectoid appearance. Adding to this were the things at the ends of his arms, not hands but delicate pincers with gripping grooves in them. He might have been wearing clothing. Picard could not tell.
Baldwin had grown a beard since Picard had seen him last. Sweat darkened his shirt under his arms and on his chest. His hair was a little wild, and more sweat dripped from strings of it that drooped across his forehead. He looked dashing and wonderful, as he did on the Omniology holochips in Enterprise’s library. Picard, not going in much for vanity, had no idea how dashing and wonderful he himself looked to many people and so felt a small pang of jealousy, which he quickly suppressed.
“It’s beautiful,” Mont said.
Picard knew that Mont wasn’t talking about Baldwin or the alien or even the jungle, though the jungle was certainly beautiful, once one dumped one’s earthly prejudices about what a jungle should look like. Mont was talking about the silver teardrop. All sensor readings that Baldwin had taken matched up nicely with the sensor readings the Enterprise had taken months before in the Omega Triangulae region. The teardrop was beautiful scientifically as well as aesthetically.
“Good to see you, Jean-Luc,” said Baldwin.
“And you, old friend. Do you need help packing?”
“No, thanks. I travel pretty light.” He smiled.
Picard said, “So I remember. Prepare to beam up.”
“Right, Jean-Luc. See you soon.”
As he turned away, the screen once more showed the mossy ball of Tantamon IV.
“What do you think of that, then, eh, Shubunkin?” Mont said.
“I think that I do not yet have enough to think about.”
“Right you are.” Mont rose to his feet with surprising grace and moved like a thundercloud to the aft turbolift. “Come along, Shubunkin. We will meet and greet Professor Baldwin.”
The two of them got into the turbolift, and the doors closed. Counselor Troi began to speak, but Picard put up a hand to silence her. He knew the turbolift doors would open again in a moment, and they did. Lieutenant Shubunkin stepped out and said, “Which transporter room?”
“Number three,” said Picard, trying not to smile. “Deck six.”
Shubunkin nodded and ducked back into the turbolift.
“Now, Counselor, what is it?”
“There is something odd about Commander Mont.”
“And his playmate, Shubunkin, too,” Riker said.
“That is not what I mean,” Troi went on. “Lieutenant Shubunkin is merely a little formal and much too impressed with himself. But I’ve thought all along that Commander Mont is hiding something. I would not trust him.”
“He’s a Starfleet officer,” Riker said.
“Even Starfleet officers have secrets.”
“Logged and noted, Counselor. Mr. Data, make our guest comfortable.” As Data stood up and walked toward the turbolift doors, Picard looked at them as if seeing through them and said, “And see if you can be of any use to Commander Mont.”
“Understood, Captain,” Data said as the doors closed.
Chapter Two
BEFORE DISAPPEARING into his ready room, the captain ordered Wesley