Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [93]
Picard had no sympathy for the stranded ships. “How many vessels got through, Data?”
“Five, sir, including the Fang. I am afraid they will be in range of Pai within the hour. Have you alleviated the Dragon’s doubts about the treaty, sir?”
“Not yet,” Picard admitted. He stroked his chin, feeling stubble. His eyes burned for lack of sleep. He had hoped for a shower and shave before the wedding; instead, after spending nearly the entire night playing ch’i, eating inedible meals, and tracking down a runaway bride, he was no closer to convincing the Dragon to join the Federation. Never mind the treaty—he wasn’t sure there was even going to be a wedding this morning.
“I hope there is the possibility of a speedy resolution, sir,” Data said.
“You’ll be the first to know,” Picard promised. “Picard out.”
The Dragon-Heir suddenly appeared in the doorway with Will Riker in tow. Sometime in the night, Picard noted, his first officer had exchanged his dress uniform for a much more impressive assemblage of Pai robes; he hoped this meant that Riker had made a good impression on the Heir and his associates. Right now, every little bit helped.
Riker, looking fatigued and a bit sheepish, approached Picard. “Sir,” he began, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
But Picard had his eye on the front of the temple, where an angry Heir appeared to be confronting his brother. “Not now, Number One,” he said. “We have a crisis on our hands.”
Evidently, news of the Second Son’s crimes had finally penetrated the Dragon-Heir’s quarters. “Thief! Traitor!” Chuan-chi screamed at his younger sibling. “Not only the wedding gifts, but my bride as well! How could you be so dishonorable?”
Kan-hi did not shrink from his brother’s accusing gaze. “I love Yao Hu,” he said, “which is more than you could ever do for her. As for the wedding gifts … well, I confess I had debts to pay before I could provide for Yao Hu in the manner she deserves. Besides, the irony appealed to me. What a sham all these feasts and gifts are. No amount of treasure could ever sanctify this mockery of a marriage!”
“When I am Dragon,” Chuan-chi snarled, “your execution will be my first act as Emperor.” Reaching into the folds of his saffron robes, the Heir consulted a small timepiece. Looking on, Picard found this peculiar behavior for a man who has just found out that his brother tried to steal his fiancée. Chuan-chi stared up at the skylight. He checked his timepiece again. What is he waiting for? Picard wondered.
The old priest also looked to the skylight. “The sun is coming,” he said, stamping a wooden staff upon the floor by the altar. “We must proceed with the wedding.”
Would there still be a wedding? Picard held his breath, watching all the principals carefully as they hesitantly looked upon each other. In the end, he observed, and despite the best efforts of Kan-hi, Yao Hu, and the still-elusive assassin, everyone had made it to the church on time. But had the events of the evening torn Pai’s fragile alliances apart?
“I suppose there must be a wedding,” the Dragon said, “for the sake of the Empire.”
Lord Lu Tung nodded. He walked over and looked at his daughter. “It is a matter of honor,” he said gravely, as he helped the tearful girl to her feet.
Yao Hu choked back sobs. “Very well,” she said, raising her chin up high. “In the name of peace, I will marry the Dragon-Heir, but my heart will always belong to my beloved Kan-hi!”
“So be it,” Chuan-chi said. He seemed strangely unmoved by his bride’s passionate declaration of love for another man. His gaze kept darting back and forth between the slowly lightening sky and his father,the Dragon. Minutes before his wedding, Picard observed, the Heir kept watching the skies—almost as if he was anticipating the arrival of an alien armada.
It occurred to Picard that