Dark Matters_ Ghost Dance (Book 2) - Christie Golden [35]
In her early days with the Tal Shiar, she had been given many assignments like this. She smiled a little,
recalling those days. She had been a hissing, spitting cat of a girl, full of rage and a desire to prove herself. No one had expected her to be as disciplined as she was, as skilled at silence, stalking, and striking. But she was then, and was still. She followed the utterly unsuspecting couple through the twists and turns of the dark streets, through the fields that boasted swaying harvests of grains and fruits, and down a dirt road. Ahead was a small stone house. The lights were on.
The couple did not complete their journey alone. In small groups of one or two, others joined them. They sometimes embraced the newcomers, hoisting a small child affectionately. By the time the group had arrived at the stone house, their number had swollen to eleven, if one counted the children.
Jekri hesitated. Normally, if. she wanted to infiltrate this group, she would have marked the meeting place and turned and left in silence. She would concentrate on one or two of them, befriend them, win their trust with the occasional "slip" of the tongue that showed she was sympathetic to their cause. Gradually, they would decide she could keep their pathetic little secret and invite her to one of their meetings.
But that would take time, and judging by her treatment at the banquet, time was short and growing shorter. Jekri did not have the luxury of a perfect infiltration. Bolder measures were needed; a gamble had to be taken.
She weighed the options. Few in the common populace had access to energy weapons of any sort. And considering the values this particular group
claimed to espouse, weapons and aggression would be the last things Jekri would find inside the stone walls of that building.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders in the earth-hued, makeshift robes she'd managed to find. She felt for her own weapon, hidden in the long, rectangular sleeves. A quick shake would bring it right into her palm if she needed to use it.
"Fortune favors the brave" was an Earther's saying that had found its way into the Romulan tongue, and Jekri knew it was right.
Boldly, she strode toward the door. She did not knock. She gripped the knob, twisted it, and opened the door.
She heard gasps. It would have amused her, had her mission not been so dire. There they sat, two dozen or so men, women, and children. They occupied every chair and every inch of the floor. Children played with small triangular toys inscribed with strange markings; Jekri could guess at their meaning. The eldest one present was in the center of the room, a book spread across her knees. That ancient tome alone would have condemned her without another word being said. As one, they all stared at Jekri in horror, their eyes wide, their mouths open with shock.
"My name is Jekri Kaleh," she stated. "I am the chairman of the Tal Shiar. I am armed and prepared to use my weapon if necessary. This is not a raid. I demand that you teach me everything you know about Vulcan mental disciplines, or I shall kill you all."
There was no immediate response. Jekri grew irritated. "You," she said to the woman holding the hook. "You are Dammik R'Kel, aren't you? A few of the rest of you are her children and grandchildren. We have all your names on file. At any moment, we could seize you, your homes, and everything you own. I have no wish to do this, but I do require your knowledge."
Still silence. Jekri locked eyes with the matriarch, Dammik R'Kel. Can you read thoughts, old -woman? Has studying Vulcan disciplines taught you how to do that?
No immediate response, as with Lhiau. In fact, the woman's face didn't change. Disappointment knifed through Jekri. What would she do now?
"Why do you wish to learn this, child?" said Dammik hi a deep, mellifluous