Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [94]
“Excellence!” he shouted. “Watch out!” The world seemed to segue into slow motion as he watched Chuan-chi draw what appeared to be a standard-issue, type-2 phaser from within his robes and aim it in the direction of his father. Picard lunged for the would-be assassin, even as he realized that he was too far away to stop Chuan-chi in time. It’s too late, he thought. I should have realized …
Beverly, however, was already standing by the altar next to Yao Hu. Hearing Picard’s warning, and reacting immediately, she kicked out her right leg … hard. Picard recalled that Beverly had once won first place in a dancing contest when he watched her powerful leg connect with Chuan-chi’s arm, which snapped upward, letting go of the phaser, which went tumbling through the air until Riker leaped up and snatched it in midflight. “There you are!” he shouted.
Worf and Chih-li instantly charged the Heir, tackling him to the ground. Deprived unexpectedly of their support, Kan-hi tumbled onto his hindquarters. The Green Pearl shrieked and ran to her sweetheart’s side. Lu Tung reached out to stop her, then threw his hands in the air, apparently overwhelmed by the shifting tide of events. The ancient priest fainted dead away, coming to rest in a bouquet of flowers behind the altar. The Dragon just stood there, blinking, as if unable to comprehend what had just transpired.
“Chuan-chi?” he said. “My son? My heir?”
On the floor of the temple, Chuan-chi struggled futilely to free himself from Worf and Chih-li’s grasp. “You don’t understand!” he cried. “I have to kill him before they get here! I promised them he’d be dead!” He slumped helplessly between the Klingon and the minister. “If I don’t,” he moaned, his voice fading to a whisper, “I’ll be just another victim.”
Troi wandered over to Picard’s side. “The Heir,” she said, shaking her head.
“Our assassin,” Picard confirmed.
“I wonder why I never sensed it,” Troi asked.
“You never had any contact with him,” Picard pointed out. “You were just a woman, remember? Even at the banquet, you were seated far away and out of sight.” Picard smiled grimly. “The Dragon almost paid for that social gaffe with his life.”
Even the Dragon could not ignore this blatant an assassination attempt. Picard could see the full implications of his eldest son’s actions sinking into the Emperor’s consciousness. His ruddy face went pale. He could not bring himself to even look in Chuan-chi’s direction as Chih-li dragged him away. Pale and trembling, he staggered over toward Picard.
“Dear captain, dear doctor,” he said, glancing at Beverly, “I owe you my life, such as it is. At this instant, I am not convinced that I still value this mortal existence, betrayed as I am by both my sons.” He sighed deeply. “But my tragedy does not in any way diminish the honor of what you have done here. If there is anything I can do to repay you …”
“Actually, Excellence,” Picard said gently, “there is the matter of the treaty.” Part of him felt guilty about taking advantage of the unfortunate Emperor’s gratitude in this way. Still, Chuan-chi was correct in one respect; the G’kkau were on the way.
“The treaty?” the Dragon said absently. Picard feared he might be in shock. “Oh, yes, the treaty. Well, this changes everything, of course. Your selfless heroism demonstrates that your honor is at least equal to our own, so there can be no dishonor in melding your honor with the honor of the Dragon Empire. Where is that treaty anyway? I’ll sign it