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By Root 391 0

Riker realized suddenly, it wasn’t the transporter; it was the room. Every available surface had decorative patterns carved or painted or embossed or enameled onto it. White satin hangings adorned with brightly painted images of birds and flowers covered the walls. Polished porcelain tiles, elaborately embellished, covered the floor, which was impeccably clean and pristine; Riker could not see a single scuff mark marring its shining surface. Glancing up at the ceiling, he saw the coils of a dragon, at least ten meters long, apparently carved from a single, gigantic piece of solid ivory. They had to have used a replicator to generate that much ivory, he thought. No living creature has a tusk that huge. At least I hope not. Every whisker, scale, and claw of the mythical beast had been executed in minute detail. Riker tore his gaze away from the dragon on the ceiling and looked around. Small pedestals made of dark, heavily lacquered wood rested in the corners of the chamber, supporting colorful china vases brimming over with roses, peach blossoms, and other floral arrangements. Even the air was suffused with rainbow-colored smoke from a series of paper lanterns that hung from the ceiling like chandeliers. The lanterns were painted with intricate designs, and the heavy scent of incense assaulted his nostrils, mingling with the odor of fresh flowers; for a second, Riker felt as though he’d been walled up inside a perfume factory.

The rich, layered look of the chamber was furthered by the solitary individual waiting for the delegation from the Enterprise: a man as gaudy as the room itself, dressed in brightly dyed silk robes that reached almost to the floor. He also wore a black, lacquered cap tied to his head. Riker noticed that the man did not appear startled by the away team’s sudden materialization; he was evidently familiar with transporter technology, if only by reputation. He regarded the Pai official evenly, determined to make a good first impression. He hoped the robed man hadn’t caught him gawking like a tourist; still, all this extravagantly ornamented elegance was hard to ignore. His eyes were still reeling from the instant sensory overload.

The Pai stepped toward them and bowed from the waist. He was a small, pudgy man almost lost in voluminous robes of emerald green trimmed with copper and pink. His face was Asian in appearance and clean-shaven except for a long, thin black mustache that dangled before both sides of his jaw. A thick ponytail hung, Manchu-style, from the back of his skull. He gripped a folded paper fan in one hand and wore, oddly enough, a monocle over his right eye. Both eyes held the anxious expression of a man whose life depended on catering to another’s whims. “Welcome,” he said. His voice was surprisingly high-pitched; Riker recalled that eunuchs had often served in high posts in imperial China. Frankly, Riker didn’t want to know if the same applied on Pai.

Riker waited for the Pai to continue speaking, but, after a few moments, it became obvious that the man, whoever he was, had said all he was going to say.

Picard stepped past Riker, toward the little man. “Greetings. I am—” he began.

Unexpectedly, the man raised his hand in a gesture enjoining silence, and bowed again. The Pai’s fingernails, Riker observed, were easily as long as the fingers they were attached to. Picard stepped back into the midst of the away team, saying softly over his shoulder, “What is this about, Data?”

The android’s response was pitched low. “Little reliable information regarding the Dragon Empire’s rules of etiquette is available, Captain. Nevertheless, a few conclusions might be drawn—”

“Try to be brief, Mr. Data,” Picard interrupted him. “This gentleman doesn’t seem to mind the pause in proceedings, but it’s hardly necessary to extend it.”

“I think I may have the answer,” Beverly whispered from under the cover of her fan. “Initially at least, equivalent ranks might be expected to deliver formal greetings only to each other, which means you can’t address a subordinate directly. Assuming, that is, that you