Double Helix 06_ The First Virtue - Michael Jan Friedman [25]
Crusher nodded. “That’s right.”
“Okay,” said Joseph, tapping his monitor screen with a forefinger. “This is a catalogue of the terrorist incidents that took place between a year and six months ago.”
One by one, scenes of carnage filled the screen, lingered for a moment, then faded… only to be replaced by others. Crusher shook his head as he looked at a bombed-out building in one scene, the desecration of a graveyard in another, the remnants of some ancient statuary in a third.
What a heartbreaking mess, he reflected. He couldn’t understand how people could be so bent on destruction.
“All right,” Joseph told them. “Now let’s take a look at the incidents that took place in the last couple of weeks.”
Again, scenes of carnage filled the screen. As Crusher watched, a series of dead Cordracites were pulled from a ragged hole in the ground. A moment later, a bound Melacron was executed with a directed-energy weapon. More Cordracite corpses, scattered across a playground. More Melacron corpses, floating on an expanse of blue-green water.
“I would say these are of a distinctly more bloody nature,” Greyhorse noted with an air of disapproval.
Simenon slid a ruby-red eye in his direction. “Is that your professional opinion, Doctor?” Greyhorse frowned at the Gnalish.
“If you like.”
“So,” said Crusher, “so far, Culunnh seems to have a point. The terrorists’ methods have changed.”
“What about their weapons?” Vigo asked.
“Coming right up,” said Joseph. With that, he pulled up a set of objects depicted against a white background. They included hand weapons, blades of various shapes and sizes, and a couple of undetonated bombs.
“Each of these was used in a terrorist incident between a year and six months ago,” the security chief remarked.
“They’re all rather standard,” Vigo observed.
“Nothing from outside the sector?” asked the Gnalish.
“I’d be surprised if it were,” said the weapons officer.
Tuvok pointed to one object in particular-a long, scimitar-like affair. “What is this?” he inquired.
“Have you seen it before?” Greyhorse asked him.
The Vulcan shrugged. “I am not certain.”
Joseph magnified the weapon and the legend beneath it “It’s the ritual slaughter blade of the Me’laa’kra,” he explained. “All the sacred burden beasts in the incident on Cordra Four were killed with it.”
“Twenty-two in all,” said Simenon, reading off the screen. There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice anymore. “Absolutely sickening.”
“Twenty two?” Tuvok asked. “Are you certain?”
Joseph looked at the ensign. “Positive. Why?”
“Twenty-two is a lucky number in the view of the ancient Cordracites,” Tuvok informed him without emotion. “It is associated with the acquisition of wealth and power.”
The security chief looked impressed with the observation. “Interesting, Ensign. But why murder burden beasts?”
Tuvok considered the question for a moment Then again, he spoke dispassionately. “In primitive times, the Cordracites used these animals to sow their fields. In some regions, they were elevated to the status of harvest gods-deities who presided over the cultivation of land.”
Crusher nodded. “So these animal slaughters might have been symbolic-a ritual objection to the Cordracite drive for territory.”
“A drive matched meter for meter by our friends the Melacron,” Joseph pointed out with a frown.
“Which, in a naaga shell,” said the Gnalish, “is why they’re at each other’s throats all the time.”
“More significantly,” the Vulcan went on, “it seems the Me’laa’kra see their activities as a holy crusade, striking at the mystical symbols of the Cordracite belief system-and not at the Cordracites themselves.”
“Indeed,” said Simenon.
“But as we’ve already seen,” Crusher noted, “recent incidents have clearly been designed to generate Cordracite