Fortune's Light - Michael Jan Friedman [99]
“And what was his reaction to this suggestion?”
“He turned me down. He said he’d sooner sell his soul than work for offworlders—though he didn’t sound entirely convincing. With a little work, I think, we could persuade him to take the job.”
Picard mulled it over. “I’ll propose it to the appropriate authorities,” he said finally. “And then, who knows? Stranger things have happened.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No need, Number One. Incidentally, the carnival is scheduled to end in a few hours—and the transportation ban along with it. I take it you’ll be returning at that time, along with your fellow officers?”
For a moment, silence. “The others will beam up, Captain. But if it’s all right with you, I’d like to take some of that shore leave I’ve been accumulating. The ship has to stay anyway, to tie up the loose ends, and—”
“And you’d like to tie up some of your own?”
“Exactly.”
Picard nodded, for the benefit of no one in particular. “Take all the time you need, Will.”
“I appreciate that, sir.”
Their communication over, the captain picked up his cup and saucer and returned them to the food processing unit. He had a long report ahead of him, and his Earl Grey had no doubt by this time gotten cold.
“Will?”
Riker turned at the sound of Norayan’s voice. He was in the anteroom to the Criathan inner chamber, where the madraga’s officials held their councils. Norayan was standing in the outer doorway—as if hesitant to come in.
“I’m glad you came,” she told him.
He shrugged. “You called,” he said, as if that were explanation enough.
“Let’s go out on the balcony,” she suggested, finally entering the room. Here in the chamber suite, it was proper to wear the dark blue color of her madraga, just as he had come in his proper attire—the red and black of a command officer in Starfleet.
As she went by, Riker offered her his arm. She took it—gladly, it seemed to him.
They walked through a narrow archway into the inner chamber proper, which was even more ornate than the anteroom and considerably larger. It was dominated by a great pink marble fireplace built into the wall on their right.
Before the hearth stood the simple wooden Table of Officials, around which the madraga’s founders were said to have seated themselves. It was unattended now, its chairs neatly organized around it, as if it had not been used since the founders’ passing.
But he knew better. It had been used the day before and throughout much of the night—to debrief Lyneea, to discuss the manner in which Criathis had been victimized and by whom, to decide what measures needed to be taken to patch up the damage, and finally to chart a new course for the madraga, now that it would not be merging with Terrin.
Apparently Riker’s partner had been discreet in her report concerning Norayan’s relationship with Teller. Otherwise, Norayan would have been stripped of her status as an official, and Riker would not have been meeting with her here.
Just to one side of the table, Fortune’s Light resided in its modest display case. Without direct light to awaken its multifaceted glory, the seal looked almost ordinary.
Hardly worth one’s life.
Norayan didn’t stop to look at any of this—though when Riker had first known her, she used to beg him for descriptions of the inner chamber. Of course, in those days, he was an honored guest of the madraggi and she was only a madraga-dzin’s daughter.
The exit onto the balcony was an archway as well. Norayan paused a moment to open the doors. Then they emerged into the brittle radiance of late-afternoon Besidia.
For a change, it wasn’t snowing, though the city’s slender, lofty towers bore evidence of the morning’s flurries. Riker breathed deep of the cold air, enjoying it for the first time since he’d beamed down.
All that separated them from the streets below was an elaborate wrought-iron railing that had blackened with age. Norayan approached it and looked out over the carnival town.
“I’ve been a fool,” she said simply.
He could have let her off the hook with just that simple admission. But it would have been dishonest. They knew each