Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [21]
“Data?” Picard said loudly. Data removed his focus from the intercepted dart and evaluated the reactions of the captain and the others present to his unexpected actions. Had he been human, he suspected he might have been embarrassed by the commotion. Everyone in the courtyard was now looking at him, and many of the young men had risen angrily to their feet. He assumed they would not attack unless given an order to do so, but recognized that this assumption could not be considered irrefutable. The chamberlain was cowering in the shadows at the rear of the courtyard, evidently uncertain whether to intervene. The musicians, their performance interrupted, retreated with their instruments to the four corners of the courtyard, while curious faces peered out from beneath the disguise of the dragon. He glanced behind him and saw, with regret, that he had created a mess as a result of the necessary swiftness of his response. The displaced servant was kowtowing frantically before Counselor Troi, apologizing—almost faster than the Universal Translator could accommodate—for the viscous red goo that was now spattered all over her elegant indigo robes. Beverly tried to help the unfortunate servant pick up the pieces of three shattered plates, but that only seemed to distress the man more. Interesting, Data thought. He trusted that the two women were capable of handling the situation on their own. He turned his attention toward the dais.
“Your Excellence, esteemed gentlemen.” He nodded politely at the rulers of the Empire. “Captain, I must apologize for causing a disturbance. It was in an effort to intercept this object.” He held up the dart; the crippled missile vibrated between his fingers. He noted that a miniature asp had been engraved along the narrow shaft of the dart, its venomous fangs rendered in detail far too minute for the average human eye to observe.
Clearly, he deduced, the dart was of native origin.
His analysis of the dart was interrupted by the sound of high-pitched humming coming from somewhere beneath the missile’s metal casing. The noise was not unlike that of a phaser on overload. Data hastily calculated the probability that a self-destruct mechanism had been activated and concluded that it would be wise to put some distance between himself and the dart. Employing the full strength of his artificial limbs, he hurled the dart straight up into the sky. The humming grew louder and more shrill as the dart ascended to an altitude of approximately 15.4682 meters before detonating overhead. The bright red explosion consumed the dart entirely, leaving not even ashes to fall back down to the floor of the courtyard. Curiously, some of the banquet guests applauded the explosion, perhaps assuming it to be part of the evening’s entertainment. Data regretted the destruction of the dart before it could be fully examined. He also reminded himself to contact Geordi regarding his planned fireworks display; the explosion had suggested to Data several other pyrotechnic possibilities. Perhaps a deliberately induced phaser overload channeled into visible wavelengths …
Nothing like an assassination attempt to perk up an otherwise dull party, Picard thought. He had no doubt that an assassination was exactly what Data had prevented. But who, he wondered, was the dart’s intended target?
With the Dragon’s permission, the android had approached the dais and briefed Picard on his actions and observations. Data remained standing before the dais, awaiting further instructions from Picard, while Mu fretfully attempted to calm the rest of the banquet guests. “Please sit down. All is in order. There is nothing to see, nothing at all,” he said over and over until the various