Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [24]
“You’re probably right,” Picard agreed, “especially since the Heir appears to oppose the treaty with the Federation. The death of the Dragon would effectively scuttle any chance the Pai have of joining the Federation before the G’kkau invade. Still, we can’t take the chance we’re wrong. We have to assume that everyone on the dais is a potential target, including you and me, Number One.”
“Lu Tung and the two princes strike me as likely assassins as well,” Riker said. He quickly filled in Troi and the others on the tensions among the wedding party. “None of them has an alibi. Anyone could have arranged to have that remote-control device launched during the banquet.”
“Do you think the assassin will try again?” Beverly asked.
“Yes,” Picard said, “and soon. Too much depends on tomorrow’s wedding. The assassin will probably try to strike sometime tonight, which means we have to keep our eyes on all the suspects and the likely targets.” Picard looked over his officers. “Number One, I think you should take Kan-hi up on his invitation to attend the Heir’s private celebration tonight. That way you’ll be in a position to protect both the Heir and the Second Son. Do you think you can manage to guard them under these circumstances?”
Riker shrugged. “It’s basically just a bachelor party. How rough could it be?”
“Just the same,” Beverly suggested, “let me give an anti-intoxicant. Then you’ll be able to keep a clear head no matter how much heavy drinking you’re expected to take part in.”
“A good idea,” Picard said. “Make it so.” He reflected further. “And take Data with you, in case the princes separate. We want to keep a close watch on both of them.”
“The bachelor party is a fixture of much human history and literature,” Data said. “I look forward to observing the phenomenon in person.”
“Just wait, Data,” Riker said with a grin. “If this party’s anything like some of the ones I’ve attended over the years, you’re in for a memorable experience.”
“Not too memorable, I hope,” Troi said pointedly. Picard noted for the first time that her robes looked rather the worse for wear. The sleeves were dripping slightly, as though they’d been dunked in something, while a gooey red mess stained the front of the dark blue robe. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought she had suffered some gory injury to her midsection. The sticky red stain smelled faintly of strawberries, however, and Picard recalled the Blessings of Summer’s Last Rejoicing, one of the few edible dishes he’d consumed all evening. Conscious of Picard’s inspection, Troi blushed slightly as she turned to address him. “What about the Dragon himself? And Lu Tung?”
“I will personally look after the Dragon,” Picard declared. “I need to spend more time with him anyway; unfortunately, he appears to be having second thoughts about the treaty. Even if we succeed in keeping him alive until tomorrow, there’s no guarantee he’ll sign the treaty unless I can persuade him to later this evening. Counselor, you will accompany me. Your empathic abilities may come in useful during our negotiations.”
“Certainly, Captain,” she said, “although perhaps I should change clothes first?” She glanced down at the crimson jelly soiling her robes.
“Just remove the outer robes,” Beverly suggested. “There are enough overlapping layers in these outfits that you’ll still be decently covered by Pai standards.” She helped Troi slip out of the stained blue robe, only to discover that the strawberry jelly had soaked through the next two layers of clothing as well. By the time, they were finished, Troi was clad in merely a single violet gown that revealed rather more of the Betazoid’s shapely figure than before, but was still more modest, Picard judged, than her usual skintight Federation uniform.
“Good enough to guard the Dragon,” he said as Beverly bundled up the discarded robes and had them beamed back to the Enterprise.
“That still leaves Lu Tung,” Riker pointed out.
“Yes,” Picard said, “and that poses a difficulty.