Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [27]
Nearby, Riker and Kan-hi had struck up an involved and detailed conversation comparing the drinking games of Pai and Alaska, demonstrating with frequent swallows of something that steamed whenever a server refilled their cups. Picard was glad his first officer was bonding successfully with the younger generation of Pai nobles, although he grew ever more thankful for Beverly’s foresight in shielding Riker against the effects of too much local alcohol. Chuan-chi, the dour bridegroom, occasionally made token efforts to contribute to the discussion, even if he obviously wished he were elsewhere. Picard suspected that the Heir was only going along with this “Penultimate Bestowing of the Undomesticated Seeds” business because tradition demanded it. Once again, he felt sorry for the unfortunate Pearl.
To his pleasant surprise, Lu Tung had readily accepted Beverly’s offer to keep the Pearl company tonight. “My honorable wife, her mother, died many years ago,” the former rebel explained, “and my … activities … the last few years have kept me far too busy to seek out a worthy successor. I have my concubines, of course, as what man does not, but none of them are mature enough to provide suitable guidance to a bride of my daughter’s stature. It is not right that a bride should go to her wedding unprepared and indeed, before your kind offer, I feared I would have to rely on, at best, a Concubine of the Fifth Rank to fulfill the traditional duties of the bride’s mother. You say your ‘Dr. Crusher’ is a woman of honor and experience?”
“I cannot recommend her too highly,” Picard said with total sincerity. “She is a respected physician, a valuable officer, and she has raised a fine and upstanding son.” And more than capable, he added silently, of protecting your daughter from any lurking assassin.
“Excellent,” Lu Tung said, although his stony expression revealed little in the way of emotion. “On the battlefield, I came to have great respect for the healing abilities of women. Their gender has a natural talent for medicine, I believe.”
The stoic noble was quite different, Picard thought, from the effusive and temperamental emperor he had sought to depose. Small wonder they did not get along. Lu Tung’s stern demeanor reminded Picard of Sarek of Vulcan, at least before age and illness undid that great man’s emotional control. He found himself hoping Lu Tung would not turn out to be the assassin.
The Dragon, meanwhile, only had eyes for Data. The Emperor had insisted that the android join them on the dais, and was now besieging Data with endless questions about his construction and nature. Picard almost suspected that the Dragon was intent on learning how to build an android of his own. It was a good thing that Data had no true feelings, Picard thought, because the Dragon’s intense curiosity was enough to make almost any other being uncomfortable very quickly.
“Amazing, amazing,” the Dragon said, squinting at Data’s skin. “An unusual texture. Why did they not give you a more conventional skin color?”
“I do not know, Your Excellence. My creator, Dr. Soong, never told me and I never asked him.”
“And he didn’t put any surface ornamentation on you?” the Dragon asked.
“No, Your Excellence. It was not deemed necessary.”
“Well, that could be easily remedied.” Eyes narrowed, the Dragon tilted his head to one side, examining Data as if he were a work in progress. “A little silver and bioluminescent inlay, perhaps some tiling effects on the planes of his face. The forehead definitely cries out to be engraved, and the coloring of the eyes is far too simple… . Why hasn’t this been done before, one wonders?”
“I have not thought of it as a practical possibility,” Data admitted.
Feelings or no feelings, Picard felt obliged to intervene