Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [19]
“I am quite certain they have,” the Dragon agreed amiably, “but those worlds are not, after all, the Dragon Empire.” He drew himself up proudly. “Since the days of our ancestors the Empire has flourished beneath the sacred Dragon Nebula without any dependence upon other worlds. Through our ancient and venerable traditions we have achieved the very apex of civilization. Any alliance or association with lesser states can only diminish us. No offense intended, of course. We are happy to have you as our guests and to share with you the blessings of this, the most glorious and magnificent realm in the history of the universe.” A look of concern crossed the Dragon’s face. “In the past, I fear, we may have been too miserly with the fruits of our glory. No more! I look forward to treating you to more of the pleasures of Pai.”
As if on cue, the servers returned and laid another tiny plate upon his small table. Picard barely glanced at the contents of the plate; he had to convince the Dragon of the seriousness of the situation.
“Excellence,” he said, lowering his voice, “forgive me if I speak bluntly, but it is only concern for your people that compels me to be the bearer of bad news.” He fixed the Dragon with a solemn stare, determined to hold on to the Emperor’s full attention. “Starfleet has reason to believe that a G’kkau invasion of Pai is imminent, perhaps only a matter of hours.”
The look the Dragon gave him reminded Picard of an indulgent grandfather humoring a small child. “The G’kkau, yes. Your people have spoken of them before. No doubt these nasty lizards have proved bothersome, even dangerous, to other races. But, Captain, look around you. This is the Dragon Empire. What have we to fear from these scaly barbarians?”
“I fear you underestimate the G’kkau,” Picard objected. “It is no reflection on your honor to admit that you may face a genuine threat to your people and your way of life.”
The Dragon shook his head. “No more gloomy words, Captain. This is a wedding, a joyous occasion, and you are an honored guest. Relax, enjoy yourself. Here: try this raw kao tzu.”
Picard eyed the pale, fleshy lumps on the plate. “Kao tzu?”
“It is like your slugs, but with more flavor.”
Chapter Four
“MY GOD,” BEVERLY MARVELED, “look at this place. It’s like going back in time.”
Being an android, Data could not share in the doctor’s enthusiasm, but he did find their present surroundings to contain numerous points of interest. He sat between Beverly and Counselor Troi on a low couch behind one of the great jade dragons looking out over the courtyard. He listened to the music, compared it against 375 similar melodies composed over the last 2,452 years, speculated on the composition of the performers’ instruments and the effect the choice of physical materials had upon the quality of the sound, performed an olfactory analysis of the incense pervading the atmosphere and judged it to be both nonintoxicating and harmless, admired the acrobatic skill of the dancers beneath the dragon facade, observed discreetly the captain’s interactions with the Emperor, memorized the faces and costuming of every attendee at the banquet, and calculated the odds of successfully completing their mission, which, judging from the captain’s expression and body language, were diminishing by the minute. Simultaneously, he socialized with Beverly and Deanna.
“In fact,” he responded to the doctor’s observation, “this setting only mimics the appearance of a traditional Chinese palace. Careful inspection reveals the existence of an advanced technological infrastructure supporting much deliberate artifice. The dragon costume, for instance, contains several components constructed from complex polymers, while the uniformity of tone produced by both flautists suggests that their instruments were mass-produced. Furthermore, the ambient temperature in the courtyard is identical to that of the interior chambers, suggesting some form of concealed heating apparatus; indeed, meteorological conditions on the planet’s surface, as observed