Gateways 07_ What Lay Beyond - Diane Carey [103]
The men pointed to themselves and repeated the word. They seemed remarkably pleased with their progress.
One man, though, turned to another and said something that was clearly in a language. Picard made minute steps toward them, hoping it didn’t appear as a threat. Instead, he was trying to make certain the translator picked up the words to begin processing. Another two began to whisper and before long, everyone was whispering, so all the captain heard was gibberish.
Finally, one of the men said loudly, “Hello!” The captain looked directly at him and smiled. The others took turns calling out the name and he responded to each in kind. It might not have been translating according to the manual, but they were making progress.
The circle broke and the leader gestured toward the village, shouting his name while one of the others bellowed back, “Hello!” The nine moved toward the buildings as more curious men and women filled the center, where the meat had continued to cook. Along the way, Picard tried to catch snippets of conversation back and forth and hoped the translations would start soon. Very soon.
On his way toward the center, he took time to notice the decorations on the buildings and he came to realize each home had some piece of sophisticated technology as a door hanging, more decorative than anything else. Clearly, there had been a superior civilization on this planet, but something had happened, and, darkly, he fretted over the Iconians’ role in the planet’s past.
Children stood before their parents and looked in amazement at Picard, who was shorter and stockier than these people. Some gestured to one another and patted their heads, clearly remarking on his bald scalp compared with their thick manes. The men and women commingled, sharing comments and unashamedly staring at the newcomer.
“… smarhsgehb… funny-looking…”
Finally, the translator began working and he smirked at the timing involved. People looked up in amazement as they heard the electronic device at work.
“Greetings,” the captain said, a smile on his face. He tried to look as friendly as possible. “I am Picard and I have come from a long way away.”
The man he presumed to be the village leader came toward him, a huge grin on his face. “Picard! We welcome you!”
“It has taken me a little time to learn your language, but I am now able to speak with you all,” the captain explained.
“Excellent. I am Hamish, elder of the village.”
“I have come from far away seeking a special item. A very old item.”
Hamish, definitely among the older ones in the village as witnessed by the almost white hair, looked thoughtful. He reached once more behind his back and withdrew the weapon. “Something like this perhaps?”
Picard shook his head. “No, Hamish. I cannot tell you what it is, but I do know it is a singular item while it seems all your men have that.” He shook his head and laughed, a deep-throated laugh, which was pleasing to the ear. “No worry, Picard. We all have these because they were given to us by our fathers. It is our symbol of welcome and while yours is different, it clearly is similar. I see yours looks newer and cleaner. We have lost count of the generations these have remained in the village.”
“Why do you seek this object?” asked a woman from his right side.
“I have many people in trouble at home, and ones wiser than I tell me it will help.” Not at all a lie and boiled down enough to be clear to these pleasant folk.
“Wiser than you?” This from a young girl, behind Hamish.
“My daughter Hemma,” he said by way of introduction.
“Yes, Hemma,” Picard replied. “I knew no other way to help my people than to ask for the help of those who built the item I seek. It is the way of my people, to ask for help when we must. We in turn offer help to those who ask.”
“Picard, are you from the west?”
The captain stared at the old man. Truthfully, his path led west, but he was not