Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [26]
“Ah, well,” the Pai stammered. “There has been little to report.”
“Little to report? You were going to kill the Dragon. Is he dead or not?”
“At this moment, I must confess, he still lives, although not for lack of any effort on my part.”
“What?!” Kakkh snarled. “What happened?”
“I did my best,” the man said, bristling slightly. “I programmed a venomous stinger to strike the Dragon during the banquet, but a mechanical man snatched it out of the air seconds before it could do its deadly work.”
The android known as Data, Kakkh realized. He had studied the crew of the Enterprise extensively. Damn the Federation! How dare they interfere with the plots of the G’kkau. “Where are Picard and the others now?” he asked.
“They are meeting privately at this very moment—in the middle of the banquet, of all things. Astoundingly rude and inappropriate.”
“Then how did you manage to leave?”
The noble simpered. “The gentle call of imperious nature. Perfectly acceptable. Unlike the shocking conduct of those Federation buffoons—barbarians, if you ask me.”
“I did not ask you,” Kakkh snapped. He had lost all patience with this foolish human’s babbling. “All I asked for is the death of the Dragon, and so far I have been disappointed in your efforts.”
“If not for the unlikely appearance of Picard’s artificial creature,” the Pai noble emphasized, “the Dragon would now be dead. My plan was perfect.”
“Not perfect enough,” Kakkh said. “You have another plan, I assume.”
“Naturally,” the man said with what Kakkh guessed was a display of indignation. “My next scheme is already in motion. I am rather proud of it, actually; this attempt has a classical character, really, in keeping with the traditions surrounding an imperial wedding… .”
“I am not interested in the details,” Kakkh interrupted. “Just the results. You have failed once. Do not do so again.”
For once, Kakkh was gratified to see an unmistakable expression of fear come over the Pai’s insufferably smug features. “I … I must return to the banquet,” the traitor said, “before Picard returns and I am missed.”
“Go,” Kakkh said, “but do not forget your mission. The Dragon must die.” With a savage sweep of his right forelimb, he cut off the communication. His eyes swiveled in their sockets, seeking out Gar. “We cannot wait much longer for this incompetent to fulfill his purpose. We will attack Pai tomorrow, and destroy their Empire whether or not the fool has killed the Dragon.”
“The Federation starship is already there,” Gar warned. “How will we deal with them?”
“They can do nothing without the Dragon’s signature. It would be better if our pawn assumed control before the assault, but if we strike quickly enough there will be no time to conclude the treaty.”
“True,” Gar conceded. “But will not the Enterprise fight to defend its own people on the planet?”
“They cannot,” Kakkh insisted. “Their Prime Directive renders them powerless. Besides, they are but one vessel and we have a hundred G’kkau warships. If they offer any resistance, we will obliterate them utterly.”
A predatory gleam sparked in Gar’s eyes. His inner eyelids twitched with excitement. Kakkh could smell the blood lust exuding from his officer’s glands. “In that case,” Gar said, “I hope they do resist.”
His fangs clashed together, eager for fresh Federation flesh.
Chapter Five
THE WEDDING BANQUET was winding to a close, and none too soon for Picard. The rahgid eyes had been just as foul as he’d feared, and several subsequent dishes had only troubled his digestion more. The Dragon seemed determined to put Picard’s gustatory abilities to the ultimate test. He just hoped Beverly had something in her med kit to settle his stomach afterward.
Swollen, black clouds swarmed overhead, pouring down massive quantities of rain. At first, Picard had expected the banquet to be halted on account of the rain, but apparently the courtyard was protected from the weather by an invisible forcefield. Countless droplets of water collided with the field, then streamed away toward some hidden reservoir. He admired