Double Helix 06_ The First Virtue - Michael Jan Friedman [21]
The sounds of accolades followed. Culunnh nodded slightly, receiving Picard’s compliment with grace and dignity.
The captain’s ears strained for sounds of resentment from the audience, but none came. It was a good sign. When parties in conflict turned their attention to attacking their mediator, whether verbally or physically, it was usually time to prepare for war.
“I am pleased to be present at these historic talks,” Picard continued, “and pleased to see that, unless I am mistaken, every species in the Kellasian sector has a representative at this congress. What that tells me is that everyone here cares deeply about avoiding an armed conflict. That gives me, and the United Federation of Planets I represent, reason for optimism that a peaceful conclusion will be achieved in due time.”
“Not until those who murdered my Companion are caught and punished for their crime!”
The outburst from the widow of the Melacronai G’aha was unexpected. So was her sudden rush toward the stage. After all, the female had already been escorted from the chamber with her children.
Picard didn’t think she posed a threat, however. So he stayed where he was and let the Benniar guards deal with the woman.
Under different circumstances, the thought of Benniari guarding anything effectively might have seemed ludicrous. Fortunately, they didn’t have to rely on their physical size. A touch of a button on their baldrics immobilized the woman’s limbs, if not her voice.
“Justice, Picard of the Federation!” she screamed. “Justice! Help us find the Cordracite killers of my Companion!”
The captain swallowed. “Those responsible for the terrorist attacks will be caught and punished, I assure you,” he said in the most tranquil voice he could muster, hoping desperately that fate would not prove him a liar. “But so far we have no proof that the Cordracites-“
“Who needs proof?” came the gurgling, hissing voice of one of the Shera’sha-sha. Its pale green tentacles waved frantically. “We all know what the Cordracites are! We all know what they do!”
“The Cordracites defend themselves against the aggressions of the Melacron, nothing more.” The flat voice of the skeletal-looking Tikraat who had spoken made the words a statement more than a defense.
No translation device ever devised could convey the emotions of the Tikraata. The best they could do was serve up the words, uttered in a mechanical, atonal voice. “It is the Melacron who-“
“Let us have order in this hall!” Picard cried out. His voice carried and the arguments ceased. For the moment, he thought darkly.
“Listen to yourselves!” he told the assemblage. “Squabbling like children tearing at a new toy! You are diplomats, every one of you. You represent the highest virtues your people have to offer. I understand that tempers are running high, but let us move forward with our eyes open-so that we may truly see and understand what is taking place!”
“The Melacronai murderers are getting away with it, that’s what’s taking place!” someone shouted.
Picard felt his jaw muscles clench. He held his hands up in a call for quiet, but no one would pay any attention to him. Abruptly, the clear, pure sound of the Benniari gong sliced cleanly through the melee.
“Let us recess for a few cycles,” said Cabrid Culunnh, who had taken up a position beside the captain. “As Captain Picard sagely counsels us, it is wiser to proceed thoughtfully and deliberately than to rush forward in the heat of emotion.”
The congress muttered its dissatisfaction, but it was obvious that nothing more could be accomplished that morning. The delegates rose and dispersed, still arguing among themselves.
The First Minister turned to Picard. “Thank you for trying, Captain,” he said in a soft, resigned voice. “Now you have some idea of the obstacles that confront me here.”
“Indeed I do,” Picard